


Coming Home

by justanoutlaw



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22639216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanoutlaw/pseuds/justanoutlaw
Summary: Emma Swan’s best foster family came when she was 5 years old. But just as quickly as it came, it was taken away. 23 years later, the boy she gave up for adoption drags her back to that familiar town and she’s confused as to how those foster parents haven’t aged a day.
Relationships: Prince Charming | David Nolan & Emma Swan, Prince Charming | David Nolan/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard & Emma Swan
Comments: 93
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for awhile. I know some people might have questions about it, but they will be answered throughout the series. This first chapter was just an introduction because while a lot of the curse was still the same, David was awake and I wanted to explain his job/current persona. 
> 
> If you do have any questions/prompts/etc: reach out to me on my CuriousCat/Tumblr/Twitter, justanoutlawfic.

_I'm staring out into the night_  
_Trying to hide the pain_  
_I'm going to the place where love_  
_And feeling good don't ever cost a thing_  
_And the pain you feel is a different kind of pain_

_I'm going home_  
_Back to the place where I belong_  
_And where your love has always been enough for me_  
_I'm not running from_  
_No, I think you got me all wrong_  
_I don't regret this life I chose for me_  
_But these places and these faces are getting old_  
_So I'm going home_  
_Well, I'm going home-Daughtry_

There’s a town in Maine where everyone is just surviving.

There’s the grandmother and granddaughter that run the diner. You’re probably not going to get your tuna fish on rye without seeing them fight at least once.

The mayor has run unopposed for the past few terms. It’s either no one else is interested in politics or they’re too scared to challenge her.

The town craftsman talks about his late wife often and how they were never able to bear children. He gives sad glances at the ones that play every time he is asked to fix something at the school.

Then you have the teacher at the school. She’s got a dark pixie cut, green eyes and a warm smile that doesn’t quite reach them. She’s kind to all her students in the 4th grade classroom. She helps them with their homework, never finds any question stupid and will run parent/teacher conferences at whatever time works for the parents. Everyone says she’s so great with kids, she should have one of her own. That’s when the megawatt smile disappears for only a second and it’s like she’s brought back a hundred years.

Across town is her ex-husband, the sheriff. He works double shifts, having a hard time delegating responsibility even to his deputy, Graham. He used to take off every weekend. He used to smile more and make “dad jokes”. There are a lot of things that the town sheriff used to do. Before he and the schoolteacher divorced. Before he lost the thing that made them feel like they were finally connected.

No one knows that the mayor’s son has left Storybrooke. Not even the mayor herself. She had an early meeting and trusted he could walk to the bus stop alone as he does every Wednesday when she needs him to. Yet, instead he’s walked all the way out of the small town. He’s the only one that’s ever been able to pass the town line since…. well, no one ever talks about that.

He won’t be gone for long. No, despite how much he claims to hate his mother, he truly doesn’t. He’s just bringing someone home. A person that can change the course of the town forever. A person that can make the clock start moving again and maybe start the aging process of some of his classmates.

The mayor’s son knows that this woman is the daughter of the school teacher and the sheriff. What he doesn’t know, is that this woman has been here before. That she considered them her parents without knowing they even shared the same DNA.

The mayor’s son doesn’t know that he’s about to create a massive reunion.

* * *

Emma had tried to force herself not to think about her son over the past 10 years. She made a choice that day in the hospital and it was one that she didn’t regret. At the time she wasn’t even 18, she was serving a sentence for robbery and still had a few months left before she was released. Giving the child up was the best choice for not only herself, but especially for him. She trusted that he would end up in a good home and from the looks of it, he had. Regina was tough around the edges but Emma tried to consider what she was walking into. Henry had just run away to find his biological mother. He was an angry little boy.

When Emma woke up in the jail cell the following morning, the deputy tried to convince her that she had been drinking. Emma knew that she only had a few sips of Regina’s hard cider but perhaps it had been a bit stronger than she realized. She was in the midst of trying to convince him to let her go, when Regina stormed in, claiming that Henry had run off yet again. Emma was used to charming her way out of things and offered up her help in exchange for freedom from the DUI. Graham and Regina took it, heading back to the mansion to figure out where Henry had gone.

The computer said that Henry had used a site to find Emma called “Who’s Your Momma?”. It wasn’t exactly the type of service that a typical 10-year-old could afford with a paper route. Regina insisted vehemently that she hadn’t given him any money and according to the records, she was telling the truth. The credit card information belonged to one Mary Margaret Blanchard.

Mary Margaret. Why did that name sound so familiar?

“She’s Henry’s teacher.”

That sounded familiar to Emma too. Before she could ask further questions, Graham butted in. “Perhaps we should pay Miss Blanchard a visit.”

“It’s a school day, she’d be there.”

“I think I’ll head down there and talk to her myself. You can head back to the station, Graham, in case anybody calls.”

“I should get back anyway,” Graham said. “The sheriff will be in soon and I’m sure he’ll be upset I didn’t inform him that the mayor’s son was missing.”

“I’ll come to the school with you,” Emma found herself saying. Regina gave her a weird look. “If this Miss Blanchard helped him out, I may be able to get information out of her. It’s also my job.”

If Regina wanted to argue, she certainly didn’t show it.

The two of them headed to the Storybrooke Elementary School. It was a big brick building, one of the better ones that Emma had seen throughout her life. In fact, as she walked the halls, she couldn’t help but think that she had been there before.

_Most schools look the same, you’ve been to enough to know that_ , she thought to herself. She was probably mixing it up with one of the nicer schools she had been to throughout her education.

Regina opened the door to a classroom and a flurry of children rushed passed them. None of them were Henry. Regina stomped to the front of the room and began chastising a woman that Emma couldn’t clearly see. The woman’s voice was soft in return, almost defeated.

“I assumed he was home sick with you.”

“Do you think I would be here if he was?” Regina snapped. “Did you give him your credit card so he could find her?”

The woman stepped to the side to get a better look at Emma. Emma took in the dark pixie cut, the kind but confused green eyes. That cream-colored button up sweater that she had once used as a blanket. The skirt that covered the lap she would crawl up onto, to hear lullabies and fairytales.

There was a reason why this school looked familiar. Why that name sounded familiar. Except when Emma had known her, she had been Mary Margaret Nolan, not Mary Margaret Blanchard.

“What the hell?”

Mary Margaret continued to look confused for a moment until it clearly clicked. Her face softened and the tears sprung to her eyes. “Emma,” she whispered.

Regina looked between the two of them, an eyebrow raised. “The two of you know each other? How is that possible?”

Emma stared at the woman she had once loved. Hell, the woman she still loved if she was being honest. The woman that she had called “Mommy”. The woman that had promised would be her forever home. Only to have it all ripped away at a moment’s notice. She didn’t feel like yesterday was her 28th birthday. No, she suddenly felt 3 feet tall. Her mind replayed that horrible day in her head. The way she cried until there were no tears left. The way she screamed for her parents, but nothing ever came. The heartache of no one listening to her, that she just wanted to go home.

She forced herself to snap out of it and turned to Regina. “I would get my kid a new teacher,” she told her. “I wouldn’t trust her with Henry.”

With that, she stormed out of the classroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look back on happier times for the Nolan family. In the present, Mary Margaret tries to get Emma to talk to her.

**January 3 rd, 1989**

Fostering had been Mary Margaret’s idea. Something she would remember when things went wrong. But in the meantime, she and David had thought of the many ways to expand their family. For as long as she could remember, they had been trying to have a baby but nothing worked. They had debated IVF but it was so expensive. They were a sheriff and school teacher. One round of that could pay for renovations on their home, to qualify them to be able to adopt. Domestic and international adoption had been something else they had looked into but for some reason that didn’t call to them.

Mary Margaret was a teacher. She worked with older kids and knew the importance of shaping their minds. She realized that maybe they didn’t need a baby. Maybe instead, they could help a child that had already been through the system, that needed a second chance. David had agreed to it quicker than Mary Margaret had expected. So, they went through the paperwork and got the home study done.

Their first placement had been a 11-year-old boy named August. He was only with them for 3 weeks and didn’t spend a lot of time in their home. Despite Mary Margaret and David doing everything they could to bond with the pre-teen, he wanted to spend most of his time exploring. They tried to be patient, not wanting to be too overbearing. There was never that connection, though. No matter how hard they tried, August just didn’t want to get to know them. And after those 3 weeks, he told his social worker that he didn’t want to be with them anymore. It hurt the day August left, but they wanted whatever was best for him. If they weren’t it, than they had to respect that.

They waited six months for their next placement. Sure, they’d get several calls for kids that needed homes and they said “yes” each time. Sibling groups that the system didn’t want to split up would work out great in their four-bedroom home. The teenager needing just a weekend placement was something they were interested in. There had even been a call for a 3-day old baby that David had rushed out to get a bassinet for, only to get a call a bit later that they didn’t need them to take her in anymore. Foster children needed placements, but Mary Margaret and David weren’t getting any.

Then one day, they got the call. A 5-year-old little girl by the name of Emma Smith. She had been in the system since birth, having been with one family until age 3. It wasn’t exactly known what happened but they couldn’t care for her any longer. She had been in and out of group homes since then, trying to find her a new family but nothing stuck. The social worker hoped that Mary Margaret and David could be it.

They redecorated one of the spare rooms in the course of a night. The yellow room got hints of white. Mary Margaret purchased new bright yellow bedding after hearing it was Emma’s favorite color. David had purchased a few new stuffed animals, placing them throughout the room. Their hands grasped through one another, smiling.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” Mary Margaret asked.

David nodded. “Even if she doesn’t, we could always change it.”

“It just sounds like she’s been through so much in those short five years.”

“Well, hopefully this is the end of the line for her.”

“There’s no reason why there shouldn’t be. According to Helen, she was abandoned on the side of the road when she was an infant.” Mary Margaret frowned. “I can’t imagine what someone would have to go through, in order to do that.”

The following morning, there was a knock on their door. Helen stood on the doorstep, a small 5-year old standing beside her. She had a mass of wild blonde curls with big green eyes. She wore a beat-up jean jacket over a black and white striped shirt. Her jeans had a few holes in them and her shoes had definitely seen better days. It was January, in Maine. David wondered where this little girl’s winter coat was. The only possession she seemed to have was a red backpack which was swung over her shoulder.

“Come in, come in,” he said instantly, stepping to the side. Helen lead the little girl inside and he shut the door. “I’m David, and this is my wife, Mary Margaret.”

“David, Mary Margaret,” Helen said. “This is Emma.”

Mary Margaret was staring at Emma, almost as if she was looking at a ghost. David took in the little girl some more, trying to figure out where he had seen her before. She did indeed look a bit familiar. Maybe she just had one of those faces.

“Emma,” Helen continued. “Say hello.”

Emma’s pouty lips didn’t move up into a smile. “Hi,” she mumbled.

“We’re so happy you’re here, Emma,” Mary Margaret said, cheerily. “We’ve got your room all set up.”

“How many other kids are in it?”

“None. You’re our only foster kid at the moment.”

Emma tilted her head. “Really?”

“Yup.”

“Are you hungry?” David asked. “We were waiting to have lunch with you.”

Emma looked a bit skeptical but nodded. The four of them walked into the kitchen. Emma sat at the table while Mary Margaret and David filled out the paperwork that Helen had brought.

“Emma is probably going to be a bit easier than your last case,” Helen said. “But she’s still a challenge.”

David looked over his shoulder. Emma was sitting right there and Helen was saying all of this. “It’s nothing we can’t handle.”

“Just know you have my number and you can call me at any time.”

“That’s it?” Mary Margaret asked. Helen had stayed a bit longer when she dropped August off. “You don’t want to see her new room or anything?”

“You’ve been approved, I trust it’s up to code.” Helen walked over to Emma and knelt down to her height. “I’m going to head off now. I’ll be in touch with Mr. and Mrs. Nolan over the next few weeks. Please try here, Emma.”

Emma didn’t say anything, she just nodded. Helen sighed and gave her shoulder a squeeze. David walked her out and watched her drive away before heading back into the kitchen. Emma sat there, kicking her tiny legs and staring into space. The two adults shared a look, unsure of what to do at first. Finally, David swooped into the seat next to Emma.

  
“So, what’s your favorite food?” He asked. Emma didn’t say anything. “Mine is stew.”

Emma looked up at that, wrinkling her nose. “ _Stew_?”

“My mom had a good recipe for it.”

“I like chicken noodle soup, but it’s not my favorite.”

“Well what is your favorite?” Emma bit her lip. “Emma, it’s okay to ask for something. If we don’t have it, we can go to the diner and have lunch there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. So, tell me, if you could have anything to eat for lunch right now, what would you pick>”

Emma pondered his question for a few minutes before speaking. “Grilled cheese.”

David grinned. “Well as luck would have it, we have cheese, we have bread and we have a stove. I think I could accommodate that.”

Emma’s pout slowly rose to a bit of a smile. David got up from the table and started searching for the ingredients. Mary Margaret reached over to stroke his back and whisper “Thank you”.

**October 24 th, 2011**

Emma was ready to leave this damn town. How had it not stuck out to her when Henry mentioned it? Storybrooke, of course. Emma had lived in a lot of places throughout her life, but this had been the strangest name. It had been one of the few places she lived in Maine before she had been moved to a home in Boston. In fact, the Nolans had been her last home in Maine.

She could hear the flurry of ballet flats behind her as she stormed down the hall. “Emma! Emma, wait!”

“I’m walking away, you should recognize the gesture.”

“Please, you have to just listen to me. We need to talk!”

“I don’t owe you anything.” And yet, she found herself stopping and flinging herself around. “This makes no sense! You don’t look a day older, that was like 20 years ago!”

“I…I don’t know. Things in this town…they’re weird.”

“You could say that.” Emma folded her arms over her chest. “Why the hell did you give Henry your credit card?”

“I didn’t! He must have stolen it.” She sighed. “He’s such a clever little boy. What I don’t understand is why he went to find you.”

“I’m his biological mother.”

Mary Margaret’s doe eyes softened even more. “You had a baby.”

“Yes, I had a child and I gave him up for adoption because I didn’t know how to be a mother. Maybe because the only examples in my life have only let me down.”

Mary Margaret looked like she had been smacked. “Emma, there’s so many things that I’ve wanted to tell you, so many things that I’ve wanted to say.” She reached out to touch her cheek. “Look at you, you’re all grown up.”

Emma pushed her hand away. “No! Don’t touch me!” She shook her head. “This is insane. You being so young, you pretending that you actually give a shit.”

“I always cared about you.”

“Bullshit! You let me go!”

“I didn’t have a choice! They took you away from us! We tried to fight but…”

“No, what I remember is you two promising me forever and then me being hauled off in the back of Helen’s station wagon.”

“It was way more complicated than that, sweets. You have to believe me.”

Sweets. That nickname burned a hole into her heart. It was exactly what Mary Margaret had called her when she was 5 years old. There had been a ton of nicknames. They made her feel loved, secured.

Now they just made her blood boil.

“Do you know where Henry is or not?”

“Emma…”

“This is all I care about right now. I want to find this kid, bring him back to his mom and get the hell out of this town before I lose my mind.”

Mary Margaret sighed. “Try his castle.”

* * *

David couldn’t remember why he wanted to be a sheriff. Some days, it seemed like a dream job. Others, he wished he could do something outside, in the open fields. He found himself driving past the abandoned farm that he and Mary Margaret had once talked about buying when he retired. If they hadn’t wanted kids, he would’ve bough it outright. For the sake of their family, he became a cop. He raised through the ranks and became sheriff.

Now, the station was pretty much his home. He paid rent on a house but he was only ever there to sleep. Once the man that cooked grand meals for his wife and foster daughter, now he got takeout from Granny’s or the Chinese place. Cooking for one wasn’t as fun. Occasionally he made baked goods for the department but he barely had the time anymore. Graham said he was a workaholic but it wasn’t like he had anything else going for him.

Speak of the devil, his deputy walked in front of his desk. “David, Mary Margaret’s here.”

He almost barked at his longtime friend not to make jokes but then he smelt his ex’s perfume. The mix of flowers was so intoxicating and reminded him why he avoided her in the first place. Every time David stepped within five feet of her he was reminded of one simple truth: he had never stopped loving her.

David got up from his desk and turned around, finding himself face to face with her. Mary Margaret was beautiful. Dark hair that complimented her pale skin and rosy cheeks. Her green eyes always popped up her subtle makeup. She typically dressed in cardigans and pleated skirts, and that day was no exception. The cardigan still hugged her curves and he was reminded of every time she had been in his arms…

But that was simply in the past.

They had been divorced for longer than he could remember. One minute, they had been blissfully married with a child they intended on adopting. The next, he was signing paperwork with a bottle of scotch beside him.

There was a lot of David’s past that he couldn’t remember, but the fighting was clear. Mary Margaret screaming at him for the smallest things. David sitting in his truck because for the life of him, he just didn’t want to come home. The day they sold that beautiful house that they had renovated and built love in together.

Why were those things so vibrant, while the good times so buried?

“What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t mean it to be harsh, but they both know that they avoid each other like the plague. They take turns going to Granny’s and the different stores. She rented a loft on Main Street while he had a house more in the suburbs. Two people that were once teased for being inseparable, now went out of their way to make sure they never saw one another.

“She’s come home, David,” Mary Margaret whispered.

David tilted his head. “Huh?”

“Emma. She’s come back to Storybrooke.”

David didn’t believe her. Not at first. Mary Margaret wouldn’t lie, but there was a period when every little girl with blonde hair had been Emma. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s not. She’s here…she’s grown up…”

“Grown up?”

“Mid to late 20s, I think.”

Had they been separated that long? Had time flown by without him knowing it?

“This makes no sense,” David said.

“I don’t know how it’s possible, but she’s here, David. She’s Henry’s biological mother.”

The mayor’s son. It was an unhidden secret that the young boy was adopted. Regina had never been married and she had just returned to town one day with a tiny baby boy. David saw them around town together over the years. He was probably the only thing that humanized the mayor.

And he was the son of his former foster daughter.

“This can’t be real,” he whispered. “She was gone for good.”

“That’s what I thought too but I saw her today. She came into my classroom with Regina looking for Henry. I guess he went looking for her and there’s been a lot of drama.”

“You saw her?” David’s heartbeat quickened. “Is she…”

“She seems healthy, but she was angry when she saw me. I think she’s going to try to leave town the first chance she gets.”

Mary Margaret took a step forward.

“I know a lot has changed between us David, but the one thing we still have in common is that we love her.” She bit her lip. “You have to help me keep her here. I can’t lose her again.”

David thought of the little girl he gave piggy back rides to. The one he watched football games with and played tea parties. The little girl that called him “Daddy” and lit up his heart.

She was back and he had probably almost seen her a dozen times. He couldn’t miss out on that again.

  
“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you do have any questions for me or the characters/prompts/etc: reach out to me on my CuriousCat/Tumblr/Twitter, justanoutlawfic.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma is forced to stay in Storybrooke longer than expected and runs into some familiar faces...along with one she just can't recognize.

Emma has only ever had three good father figures in her life. At least that she can remember. It’s more than a lot of foster kids might have had, she realizes, but in one way or another, they’ve let her down.

There was the first dad she ever really had. The father that fostered her for three years. She can’t remember much about him except that he smiled a lot and they’d get bear claws every Saturday morning. At least towards the end of her stay with the Smiths, which was where she got her old last name. She changed it not long after she left the Nolans and found herself living on the street. An older boy told her a different way of looking at “The Ugly Duckling”. The duck became the swan, because she believed in herself. Emma supposed she could believe in herself too.

There was Bill, when she was around 12 or 13, the years all start to blend together. He took her to a father/daughter dance at her middle school. He and Katie were going to take her on her very first vacation: a camping trip. Her foster brothers, their biological sons, were going to come along. Then Lily had to go and ruin all of that. The way Bill looked at her and said that she had put “his children” at risk. She realized he was never going to love her the same way he did Max and Zach. He hadn’t even fought for her when she ran away.

The last was David. She had been with him less than the Smiths, but longer than Bill and Katie. For seven months, she had a home. David had promised her that he was going to be her forever father. After Jerry Smith, it was a promise she treasured. And then after David, it was a promise she never really believed again. She didn’t understand how he could go from playing with her, teaching her how to make cookies and checking for monsters in her closet…to just letting her slip away.

Emma dealt with Henry at the beach. The kid was messed up, there was no doubt in her mind about that. He resented Regina and Emma felt for him, but she also knew that was his mom. They needed to work out whatever issues they had. Henry kept trying to insist his life sucked but Emma struggled with feeling for him. He had a mom that had called the police the minute he went missing. A mom that genuinely seemed to miss him. Regina and Henry were going through a rough patch, but they were going to be okay.

It broke her heart to watch him forlornly walk into the house, but she knew just as she had 10 years ago, that it was for the best. Regina looked at her skeptically and Emma couldn’t blame her there. This was the second time her kid had run off in 24 hours and Emma had been the one to show up with him. She said her goodbyes and climbed into her bug, fully intending on heading out of Storybrooke and back to her life in Boston.

Until her bug stalled in the middle of Main Street. Which, like her former foster mother, hadn’t changed a bit.

Billy, the mechanic, came fairly quick once Emma got the number from the waitress at the diner. His news, however, wasn’t as bright.

“I’m a bit backed up,” he said. “I’m not going to be able to get to this for a while.”

Emma groaned. “You have got to be kidding me. I’m trying to get out of town. I’m not even from around here, what am I supposed to do now?”

Billy gestured behind him to the inn. “There’s a bed and breakfast? You could stay there.”

Emma shut her eyes, tipping her head backwards. She supposed she didn’t have much of a choice. “How backed up are you?” She asked.

“A week.”

“Of course. And you’re the only mechanic in town?”

“This is Storybrooke.”

“Right.”

Emma turned around and headed towards the bed and breakfast. She hadn’t ever had a reason to stay there during her first go around in Storybrooke. She did happen to know the owners. If they remembered her, was going to be another question.

Emma walked inside and up to the front desk. No one was around, at least not at first. Suddenly, she could hear arguing coming down the stairs. Yup, that was familiar. She remembered once asking Mary Margaret and David why Ruby fought so often with her grandmother, but they never had an answer.

“I should have gotten out of this town when I had a chance!” Ruby yelled.

“I’m sorry my hip replacement ruined your travel plans,” Granny called back. She saw Emma and her entire demeanor changed. “A guest. My, we don’t get many of those.”

Emma arched an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

“No.” She scurried behind the desk. “It’s just you?”

“Yes. I’m looking to stay about a week.”

“Sounds perfect. Would you like a forest view or a square view? Normally there’s an upgrade for the square, but I can waive it.”

Emma couldn’t help but smile as Granny frantically busied herself behind the desk, looking for her ledger and a pen. It was clear she didn’t recognize her yet. “The square is fine.”

“You look familiar,” Ruby piped up. “But I haven’t seen you in a while.” She looked a bit closer. “You’re not…you’re not the kid that Mary Margaret and David fostered way back when, are you?”

Emma cringed at the mention of Mary Margaret and David. “I am.”

“Wow. I can’t believe it’s you.” Ruby looked her up and down. “You’re…you’re so grown up!”

“Yeah that’s what happens when you get forced out of town.” Emma turned away from Ruby and back to Granny who had the book open once again.

“What was your last name again, sweetie?”

“It’s changed, actually. Swan. Emma Swan.”

An unfamiliar accented voice spoke up from behind them. “Emma.” She turned her head and found a shorter man with shoulder length brown hair, dressed in a fancy suit. A cane was clutched in his hand. For the life of her, Emma could not place his face. “What a lovely name.”

“Thanks,” she replied, not knowing what else to say. Emma was one of the most popular baby names out there, not like it was something more unique. Yet, the man just kept smiling at her. It was starting to creep her out.

Granny reached out past her holding a wad of cash. “It’s all here,” she said firmly, though Emma could tell her usual demeaner was cracking.

“Yes, of course it is, dear.” He accepted the money and placed it into his jacket pocket. Then, he turned to face Emma. “Enjoy your stay…Emma.”

He slowly walked out of the inn, making sure to look at each and every one of them as he did. The door shut behind him with a ring of the bell above it. Emma finally got the nerve to speak to Ruby again.

“Who was that?”

“Mr. Gold.” Ruby shuddered a little, watching behind the curtain as he walked away. “He owns this place.”

“You mean the inn?”

“No,” Granny looked deeply afraid. “The town.”

Emma tilted her head and more memories began to flood back. She vaguely remembered a Mr. Gold working with her former foster parents towards the end of her stay in Storybrooke. He was an attorney, they told her and would be helping them adopt her. That obviously hadn’t happened.

She shook it off, not wanting to keep thinking about the past. “Can I get the key to my room, please?” She asked. “It’s been a long day.”

* * *

Emma woke up the following morning, slightly forgetting where she was. For a minute she expected to be back in her Boston apartment with the calligraphy painted front door. Instead, she had a lumpy mattress under back and a scratchy blanket over her body. She climbed out of bed and walked to the window, not caring that she was just in a white tank top and her underwear. On the streets below her, the town was aflutter with people heading to work and school. She cracked her neck, trying to get the pressure of the awful night from out of her.

Before she could text her boss to let him know she’d be out of commission for the week, there was a knock at the door. Heading over, she opened it hesitantly to find Regina Mills on the other side holding a basket of apples. This town was too strange for her liking. Had it been that way when she was little?

“Did you know that the honey crisp tree is one of the most vigorous apple trees?”

Emma tilted her head. It was too early and she hadn’t had any coffee or cocoa to deal with this agricultural lesson.

“It can survive temperatures as low as 40 below and keep growing,” Regina prattled on. She gave Emma a soft, yet firm smile. Emma suddenly realized she wasn’t here to give her gardening tips. No, this was a threat. “It can weather any storm. I’ve had one I’ve tended to since I was a little girl. And to this day, I have yet to taste anything more delicious than the fruit it offers.” She plucked an apple off the top and offered it to Emma, who slowly took it.

“Thanks,” she said, giving Regina a weird look.

Regina extended the basket to her. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy them on your drive home.”

“Actually, I’m going to stay awhile.” Regina blinked several times in under two seconds. “My car broke down and you only have one mechanic. He said it’s going to take a week.”

“Oh.” Regina loosened only slightly. “With all due respect, Miss Swan, I do think it’d be best if you stayed away from Henry during this time.”

“With all due respect, Madam Mayor, your son’s the one that sought me out. I have no intentions of further complicating your lives. I just want my bug fixed so I can leave and get back to my life.”

Regina didn’t look so convinced, but she nodded nonetheless.

“I do have him in therapy, you know.” Emma raised an eyebrow. “Henry. The situation is under control. I know what’s best for my son.”

Emma hadn’t planned on questioning Regina’s authority, but she could tell the woman was clearly afraid she was. “You’re his mom,” is all she said in response.

“Yes. I am.”

Regina walked away, taking the rest of her apples with her. Emma sighed and took a bite of the one she left behind. At least she got a free breakfast.

* * *

Emma didn’t know what else to do with her morning, so after grabbing a cup of coffee from Granny’s she decided to take a walk.

The town really was the same. None of the shops had been updated in the past 23 years. The people all looked the same for the most part too. It was like they all drank some version of spiked water or had great deals with plastic surgeons.

_Or Henry’s theory about them all being cursed by Regina is true._

Emma rolled her eyes. There was something weird about the town, but magic wasn’t it. Fairytales, wishes on shooting stars, she stopped believing on all of that ages ago. Henry was still a kid, it was cute that he thought that his school teacher was Snow White. Maybe less cute that he viewed his mom as the Evil Queen but what pre-teen didn’t at times?

As Emma rounded the corner to go off Main Street, she found herself walking to the house where she had spent most of her time in Storybrooke when she first lived there. The big blue house with the wraparound porch. There had once been a yellow and white bike, that David helped her learn to ride. Mary Margaret’s garden was long gone. Her old foster mom’s station wagon and David’s truck weren’t in the driveway, instead replaced by two Volvos. She had seen Mary Margaret’s car at the school, so was there a chance that they no longer lived there?

  
“I had a feeling I might find you here.”

His voice was soothing, like warm water. She didn’t want to turn around and see his face. She tried to block out the memories, just as she had over the years. Yet, the most prominent one floated up. The two of them sitting in front of the TV, wearing matching jerseys and yelling at it at the top of their lungs. She had tried her best to learn everything about football and had probably failed. She mostly liked the snacks that David made before the games and the way she could curl up against his chest, most likely falling asleep. It had been the first way they could truly bond after she came to live with them.

“What, you’re stalking me now?”

“We were afraid last night that you left, that we missed our chance. Then word got around town that you checked into the inn last night. We had some hope.”

“My car broke down, just waiting for it to be fixed.” She suddenly had a weird feeling. “Did you mess with it?”

“No, no. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t put you in danger. All of that, was just one big coincidence.”

For some reason, Emma believed him. She slowly turned around, forcing herself to look at the man she had once called “Daddy”. Like everyone else in the stupid town, he looked exactly the same. Blonde hair, blue eyes and a bit of fuzz around the cheeks. It used to scratch her when he gave her a kiss, but she never complained. He even still dressed the same, just like Mary Margaret. David wore a blue flannel shirt and some jeans. His badge stuck out over the pocket of his pants, showing off that he still held the same career.

David’s eyes glistened at the sight of her and she almost had to look away again. “Mary Margaret was right, you’re all grown up now. I don’t get how that’s possible.”

“It’s been 23 years.”

“I just…I didn’t think that much time had passed. In my mind, you’re still 5 years old and we’re going out for ice cream after school.”

Emma didn’t smile at the memory. “I told your wife what I’m going to tell you. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Mary Margaret and I aren’t together anymore.”

That’s one thing that changed.

She remembered looking through David and Mary Margaret’s photo albums, more specifically their wedding one. Mary Margaret always looked like a princess to her. She even wore a tiara. In those seven months she spent with them, David and Mary Margaret had probably been the healthiest relationship she had seen until Bill and Katie. They laughed together, they kissed and went on the occasional date night. The two were always saying “I love you”. To Emma at that age, it was like being fostered by a fairytale couple. The way they looked at each other as if they were the only two in the room. It made her feel safe somehow.

Now it was like all of that was taken away, on top of their happy family.

“Well that’s…too bad.” She wanted to ask why. She didn’t get how two people that in love didn’t work out, but she didn’t want to feel even more involved in their lives. “It still doesn’t change what I said.”

“Stay in Storybrooke, Emma.”

“I’m here for the week until my car gets fixed.”

“Stay longer than that.”

“Why do you even care?” Emma threw her hands in the air. “You two gave me away and then couldn’t even be bothered to say goodbye or explain why to me.”

“It was a complicated situation. We wanted to but social services…”

“No, that’s bullshit. You two were just two more people in my life that let me down.”

David let out a disgruntled sigh. “If that were true, then why would we be here fighting for you Emma? Why would I be trying to get you to hear us out when you clearly hate us? For God’s sake, I was your father…”

“I don’t know! Maybe you have some weird guilt! Maybe you think it’ll get Mary Margaret to talk to you! What I do know is, you’re not my dad, _David_.” She fixed him with a look. “You made sure of that.”

“Emma, we lo….”

Emma stormed away, not letting him get another word out. She didn’t want to hear it.

She didn’t want to hear that they loved her. Because what did it matter? They had just let her go in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, context is coming. And remember, Snowing is cursed.
> 
> If you do have any questions for me or the characters/prompts/etc: reach out to me on my CuriousCat/Tumblr/Twitter, justanoutlawfic.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma isn't the only one with a box of memories. David and Mary Margaret go over it together, while making a plan for how to keep their daughter in town. Meanwhile, an unknown ally is helping them along.

_Me and my stupid pride are sitting here alone_   
_Going through the photographs, staring at the phone_   
_I keep going back over things we both said_   
_And I remember the slamming door and all the things that I misread-Taylor Swift_

**January 6 th, 1989**

Emma had been quiet ever since she moved in with them. Mary Margaret did everything she could to open the little girl up but it had been a challenge. She had it expected it. August barely said two words to them after he arrived in Storybrooke. Even so, Mary Margaret knew this could be a longer placement and she wanted to get Emma acclimated as much as possible. A few days after Emma arrived, Mary Margaret decided to take her shopping.

“I have lots of stuff back at the house,” Emma said as they walked into the only office supply store in town.

“You do, but I got a list from your new teacher,” Mary Margaret explained. “School starts again on Monday, so you’ll need some stuff I didn’t want to get you until we met.”

“Like what?”

“Like a backpack.”

“I have one already.”

Mary Margaret didn’t want to point out that Emma’s backpack was falling apart. It could barely hold the beautiful baby blanket that was inside of it along with the one other outfit that she had from her previous home. Instead, she steered Emma over to the section where they were lined up on the wall.

“Well, I want to treat you to a new one.” Mary Margaret gestured to the selections. “You can pick any one you want and a lunchbox.”

Emma tilted her head and Mary Margaret had to stop herself from smiling too wide. “A lunchbox? Normally I get free lunch at school.”

“Well, you could get lunch from the cafeteria or you could have yummy stuff that David makes you.”

Emma seemed as though she was debating it for a bit. “David’s food is yummy.”

“It is, huh?” Mary Margaret held out a pink one for Emma to inspect, which got a wrinkled nose. “No pink?”

“I like yellow…and red.”

“Well, I’m sure we could find one of those.”

She and Emma looked down the section, with Mary Margaret offering different ones to her. None really seemed to catch the little girl’s eye. Mary Margaret reached to grab some ice packs for the lunchbox when she saw Emma examining a denim backpack. It would be big enough for all her stuff and was quite stylish, if Mary Margaret was being honest.

  
“That one, sweets?” Emma looked up and nodded. Mary Margaret smiled. “I like it too.” She took it off the shelf and put it in the cart. “Now for the lunchbox.”

Emma found a Rainbow Brite lunchbox she liked. It was bright yellow and had the characters on the front. Alongside of it was a matching thermos, which would be perfect for soups or pastas that David liked to make. Next, they went to look at the supplies. Mrs. Anderson had requested a huge box of crayons, some glue sticks and scissors. Emma looked nervously at the list.

“I’ve never been to a new school before.”

Mary Margaret set the list onto her purse and knelt down to her height. “It’s a little scary, huh?” Emma nodded, her green eyes widening a bit. “Well, you know I’m a teacher, right?”

“Yeah, for bigger kids.”

“4th grade. But, I happen to be friends with a lot of the teachers and I know Mrs. Anderson is very nice. She has a fun classroom with lots of toys. You even get to take a nap halfway through the day.” Emma still didn’t look convinced. “And if anything were to happen, you know you could always come find me.”

“Really?”

“Pinky swear.” Mary Margaret held out her pinky and waited for Emma to wrap hers around it. “The best part is, the kindergarteners get their very own playground, with a twisty slide.”

Emma’s eyes seemed to light up at that. “I’ve never seen one of those.”

“Well then I’m sure Mrs. Anderson and the other kids will be happy to show it to you.”

Emma suddenly flung her arms around Mary Margaret’s torso. Mary Margaret nearly fell over, but caught herself before wrapping her arms around Emma.

  
“I’m glad my new foster mom is a teacher.”

Mary Margaret stroked Emma’s golden curls. “Well, I’m happy to have you as a foster daughter, Emma.”

“Emma.”

Mary Margaret stood up with Emma in her arms and turned to face the source of the voice. It was Mr. Gold. In one hand, he balanced a cane. In the other, was a basket filled with stationary and pens.

“Mr. Gold,” Mary Margaret said, politely. She didn’t know the man too well, outside the fact that he practically owned the whole town. Granny was always complaining about how high he made the rent. It was partially why she and David had bought, instead of rented. He also owned an antique store on Main Street, but she had never been inside. “How are you?”

“Quite fine, dearie.” He looked over at Emma, who was clinging to her foster mother. “So, Emma.”

“David and I are fostering,” Mary Margaret explained. “This is our newest placement.”

Mr. Gold nodded, though he didn’t look thoroughly convinced. Why would he think she was lying about a thing like that? “Right.” He blinked a few times, before a smile came across his face. “Well, have a lovely day, Mrs. Nolan and…Emma.”

Mr. Gold walked away, the sound of his cane scraping against the tile floors. Emma clung a bit tighter to Mary Margaret.

“Who was that?”

“Mr. Gold, he owns a shop in town.”

“Oh.” Emma’s eyebrows furrowed. “He kept staring at me. You’re not supposed to stare.”

“I know, sweets, but he means no harm.” Mary Margaret rubbed her back. “Come on, we need to find you some new sneakers.”

**October 26 th, 2011**

Mary Margaret didn’t have much from her time with her foster daughter. The possessions stayed in a box in the back of her closet. A few toys like the Cabbage Patch doll she had gotten for Valentine’s Day or the stuffed lamb that David had selected for her. There was the sign that once hung in her room “You are my sunshine”. Finally, she had Emma’s old lunchbox. She wasn’t sure why that was the one thing she kept. Maybe because it wasn’t just a connection to Emma, but her ex-husband too. David would make both of their lunches every night before he went to bed. Normally, PB&J for Emma and some leftovers for Mary Margaret. Still, they were always appreciated.

At the bottom of the lunchbox was a post-it note that David had put in there, just as he did every day.

_Hope you’re having a good day, Emmy. Love, Daddy._

Daddy. Emma had started calling them by proper parental names just a few months into staying with them. They had no doubt that they would be able to adopt her. There was no reason why they shouldn’t be able to. And then, it was all taken away because of a stupid mistake that she made.

She knew David had never forgiven her for it. Sure, he said he didn’t blame her but Mary Margaret saw the look in his eyes the days after Emma left. The way he stopped touching her. He was the one that had called Helen and told her that they didn’t want any more placements. Why would he have done all of that if he didn’t blame her?

They had been divorced for such a long time and yet Mary Margaret could still remember everything about their divorce. Life before Emma’s arrival and after she left was fuzzy, but that was clear as day. The silence turned to fighting, but even that dissipated. Before she knew it, she was going to Gold and asking him to draw up divorce papers. The man that had once given them such hope that they were going to be a family was making it clear that they never would be.

Neither stayed in the house. Instead, they sold it and split the profits. David started renting a house not far from where they once lived, while Mary Margaret moved to a loft in the center of town. It was small, perfect for a new divorcee. There was even the clawfoot tub that she had always dreamed of.

She still would’ve given anything to have him back.

The door to her loft opened and Mary Margaret looked up to find David standing there. After avoiding each other for years, Emma was the one thing to pull them back together.

“She talking to you yet?” he asked.

Mary Margaret shook her head. “I tried to visit her room at Granny’s but she wouldn’t open the door.”

David threw himself onto the couch and let out a sigh. “I pictured this with her as a teenager, but not now.”

Mary Margaret gently rolled her eyes. “Please, you would’ve been the favorite when she was 13. All teenage girls hate their moms.”

“But their moms are the ones they go to when crap hits the fan.”

She smiled, even though she didn’t want to. “I guess that’s true.”

“Besides, I don’t know if she ever had a favorite. We both gave her what she needed in our own ways.”

Mary Margaret nodded. “I guess that’s true.”

David’s eyes traveled to the box in front of her. He made his way down to the floor and lifted out the lamb, running his fingers through the dingy fur.

“I nearly forgot about this,” he whispered.

“I didn’t keep a lot after we moved, but this was just the stuff I couldn’t part with.”

“Yeah, I have her old sun pillow.” He shrugged when Mary Margaret looked at him confused. “I keep it on my couch, a reminder of what could’ve been.”

Mary Margaret nodded. “I go through my closet every week, I tell myself I’m reorganizing it, but I think it’s just an excuse to look through all of this.”

It’s weird how easy they can communicate. Mary Margaret told herself it was for Emma. She was their weight to the world.

“You’re punishing yourself,” David said.

“I guess I took over for you.”

David looked at her strangely. Mary Margaret closed the box and started to head back to her closet.

“Did you have a reason for coming over?” she asked.

David bit his lip. “I know we don’t get along the way we used to Mary Margaret, but once upon a time, we did.”

“A lot has changed since then.”

“I know that. I was there.”

_And then you weren’t._ But she had asked him to leave, so could she really blame him for that?

David continued on, pulling himself up. The plush lamb was clutched tightly in his grip. “We want Emma to stay, there’s no doubt about that. So maybe we can just try to put the past behind us. If she just sees us fighting, that’s not going to remind her of the good times that this place brought her.”

Mary Margaret set the box down onto her bed. “I guess that’s true.”

“So…truce? At least for Emma?”

He extended the lamb and she allowed her hand to go over it.

“Truce,” she whispered. “For Emma.”

* * *

Not much had changed in Storybrooke in the 23 years since Emma left. Granny’s grilled cheese was no exception. The way she somehow managed to combine the three cheeses and perfectly toast the bread was a marvel. She hadn’t been able to find one like it since she left all those years ago. The onion rings were huge and never left her hungry.

It was hard to find reasons to hate the town. As much as she wanted to only remember the bad times, ever since she ran into Mary Margaret it was nearly impossible. Memories of running around at the beach or the park. Getting ice cream after school with David. Sitting on Mary Margaret’s desk while she graded papers and occasionally let Emma put unicorn stickers on the pages.

Why did she have to remember all of that? It was hard enough having to remember the bad, but remembering the good meant that there was something great and she was forced to leave it.

“Miss Swan.”

Emma nearly dropped her sandwich at the sound of Mr. Gold’s voice. She looked up in shock, but he just had that same steady smile on his face that he always had.

“Mr. Gold,” Emma placed her sandwich down and took a swig of her root beer. “You trying to take 10 years off my life?”

He chuckled. “Just wanted to see how you were enjoying our town.”

“It’s…practically the same.” She looked around the diner. “Weird how no one’s aged.”

“Oh, they have, just not in the ways you’d expect.”

Emma cocked an eyebrow. She remembered being scared of this man when she was 5 years old. Now, he was more of a mystery.

  
“I heard you’re staying with us for a bit.”

“Just until I can get my car fixed. Then I’m out of here.”

“I’m sure Ms. Blanchard and Mr. Nolan were sad to hear that.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Forgive me if I don’t care about how they feel. They’re the ones that gave me up.”

“Life is more complicated than we normally think. Sometimes, parents have to let go and regret it.”

“What would you know about it?”

Emma reached down to take a bite of her sandwich and when she looked up, she saw a haunted gaze over him.

“You don’t know what I know.”

She felt even more puzzled by that. “Pardon?”

Gold snapped out of it, returning to his no-nonsense stare. “Your parents didn’t want to give you up.”

“Foster parents,” Emma corrected. “And they did.”

“There are always three sides to the truth, Miss Swan. His, hers and the truth.” He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a manila envelope. “I happen to have the third.”

“How…”

“You were quite young when all of that was going on, but let me remind you that I was their attorney. Everything that happened, went through me.”

He placed the envelope on the table, making sure to be careful of her ketchup dipping bowl.

“If you don’t believe them or me, believe the legal documents.”

He reached down and stole an onion ring from her plate, popping it in his mouth.

  
“I’ve always preferred fries,” he mused, walking away.

Emma stared at the envelope. It was thick, with her first name on it. She wasn’t sure how much she could trust it. Mary Margaret and David could have paid him to falsify something. Then again, Mr. Gold didn’t seem like the type.

Slowly, she picked it up and put it into her backpack. She’d read it. Not for them, but for herself. After 23 years, she deserved answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you do have any questions for me or the characters/prompts/etc: reach out to me on my CuriousCat/Tumblr/Twitter, justanoutlawfic.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 23 years ago, lies were told. Now, part of the truth can finally be revealed. But will Emma listen to it?

**August 10 th, 1989**

Snow stormed the mayor’s office. She could feel a white heat boiling over her entire body. Her eyes locked on Regina, her memories mixing. She looked so different than she had the day the curse was cast. Her hair was shorter and she dressed relaxed. Then again, everything in Storybrooke seemed relaxed to how things were in the Enchanted Forest. Her eyes narrowed as she thought of her husband bleeding out on the ground, not waking up no matter how many times her lips grazed his. The wardrobe being thrown open and her daughter being gone.

Her daughter.

Snow thought of the little girl that was currently being babysat by Ruby. Mary Margaret had been fostering her for the past 8 months. They had plans to adopt her. Emma was the savior, she was supposed to break the curse. Yet, no matter how many kisses on the cheek or goodnight cuddles, the town was still cursed. Even David wasn’t awake. Snow would still be her cursed self had she not noticed the blossoming flowers in the yard.

They didn’t look like anything she had planted over the years. No, they were bright pink, resembling a rose but her years of gardening told her they weren’t. They had been there since winter, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. They didn’t weed like the others. It took until summer for Mary Margaret to finally decide to pick a bouquet for the front hall.

The moment she grasped one, some glitter fell into her hand and her entire body shifted. Mixing in with Mary Margaret’s foggy memories of finishing college, marrying David and everything that came before Emma’s arrival were replaced by the reality: her life as Snow White. The day she met Regina. The moment she became a bandit. Falling in love with David. Finding out that one day they would have a child.

Most importantly: the day her baby was born. The curse enveloping them. The last thing she ever saw being Regina’s sick smile.

“You,” Snow seethed.

Regina looked up, confusion written across those big brown eyes. Then it must have clicked. She slowly stood up, folding her arms over her chest.

“Snow White.” She took a step closer. “You’re awake.”

“No thanks to you.”

“This shouldn’t be happening. You…”

“Were supposed to be miserable for 28 years?” A bitter laugh escaped Snow’s mouth. “I’m surprised you even know it’s me.”

“Mary Margaret never looked at me like this.”

“Mary Margaret didn’t know what you had done.”

Regina tilted her head. “So, what’s your plan here? I’m assuming you’re the only one awake or else I’d have a mob outside my door.”

Snow thought of Gold, no Rumpelstiltskin. He had been extra helpful to Mary Margaret and David when it came to trying to adopt Emma. There is no way that the Mr. Gold that had been asleep would be so willing. Rumple was the one obsessed with their daughter. She was the key to the curse. He had to be awake.

She wasn’t about to out that. No, that would put more people in danger.

“I don’t know how it happened either, but I won’t be alone for long. Emma is here. She’ll break the curse.”

“Your foster daughter?” Regina laughed. “What does she have to do with anything?”

Snow continued staring at her, until it seemed to click in her mind.

“She’s more than just your foster daughter, isn’t she?”

“Surprise.”

“How…I don’t…” Regina clenched her desk. “It makes sense how she made the way over the town line.”

“Your plan has failed.”

“And what’s your plan once your precious little girl brings magic to this town?” Regina cocked an eyebrow. “You think I won’t find a way to defeat you? You couldn’t stop me last time. Maybe my knights will actually succeed in killing your precious family this time.”

Snow didn’t know what she was doing until her fist was throbbing and Regina had her face covered. Blood dripped to the marble tile. It was both of theirs. Regina gasped, her hand over her nose. Her eyes narrowed.

“You’re going to regret that.”

“You stay away from my family or you’ll be the one that has regrets. This may be your town, Regina, but I know you. And I will not let you win. Not again.”

She stormed out of the office, shaking out her hand. Dammit. This was going to bruise. There was a cut from where her emerald ring had pierced Regina. It was all worth it. As she got out of the office and onto the street, she ran into someone. The tumble of a cane into her shin made her realize who it was.

“Rumple.”

He fixed her with a look. “You’re awake.”

“And I know you’ve been for awhile now. How?”

“Let’s just say Regina’s not the only one who can work things into a curse.” He looked down at her throbbing fist. “I take it you paid Miss Mills a visit.”

“The Queen isn’t going to win this time. How can we get Emma to break the curse?”

Gold sighed. “Snow, I told you before. It can only be broken after her 28th birthday. That’s when she was fated to return to you and your husband.”

“But she’s here now! There has to be another way.”

“I’m afraid not. Somehow, she ended up in your care again, but magic is specific. This town cannot have its curse lifted for another 23 years. And now that Miss Mills knows you’re awake, you’re all in danger.”

Arrogance had always been Snow’s downfall. If only she knew what she was setting herself up for. But she didn’t want to think about that. No, she could find a way. Rumpelstiltskin had to be wrong.

“I won’t let her hurt my child again. And I don’t need your help to break the curse. I’ll figure it out.”

She began to walk away and could hear Rumpelstiltskin let out a long sigh.

  
“Why don’t we go back to my shop and have a spot of tea?” He offered. “We can work this out together.”

**October 26 th, 2011**

Rumpelstiltskin knew that Mr. Gold never had a customer. Over the past 28 years, only three people had ever entered his shop: Regina Mills and the Charmings. Gold had never minded it; the shop was hardly his only source of income. Ever since Miss Swan returned to town, however, and the clock started moving, there had been the nosy customer every so often, suddenly interested in purchasing things or trying to get money for something else. Miss Boyd paid him a visit quite often, trying to get him to reverse her contract.

Oh, the irony that Mr. Gold had struck one up with her as well.

As he polished silver that was already shiny, he heard the bell above the door open. He looked up to find Emma heading towards him. The file he had gifted her was tucked under her arm, ripped open at the top. Her eyes were tear stained. Rumpelstiltskin kept up appearances and didn’t smile, nor frown.

“Miss Swan,” he said. “I take it you’ve read the information I gave you?”

She slammed the file onto the glass case in front of him. “Is this real?”

“Real?”

“Did Mary Margaret and David pay you to put this together?”

Rumpelstiltskin finally allowed himself to smile. “Miss Swan, they have no clue I even spoke to you.”

She let out a shaky breath. “So…it’s true.”

“Yes. Miss Blanchard, then Mrs. Nolan, assaulted the mayor when she threatened to have you taken away from her. Madam Mayor reported this to social services, who deemed that Mr. and Mrs. Nolan were not the right fit for you.”

Of course, social services knew nothing of the curse or the fact that Regina had been punched for threatening to kill Emma and David. There was no proof of it. It was information that not even Mary Margaret could remember. Rumpelstiltskin had forgotten it for 23 years himself. Now, it replayed in his mind as if it were warm water.

Snow White sitting at a table in the back of his shop. He fixed them a cup of tea, finding the one bit of magic that had made it through the curse. He had written it in that way. It wasn’t much, but enough to make sure that if anyone ever woke up before it was time-himself included-they’d fall back asleep. There was only one vial, enough for two people. Magic couldn’t exist in Storybrooke, not yet.

He had watched her sip the tea. The fierceness in her eyes melted away. Her shoulder slouched. As she dropped the teacup to the saucer, that annoyingly adorable confusion that made her beloved by the kingdom fell over her face. She had looked around the backroom, blinking.

_“What am I doing here?”_

_“Don’t you remember, Mrs. Nolan, you wanted to discuss Emma’s adoption. I told you there were some hurdles, but I’m working on it.”_

_She had blinked again. “Oh, yes.”_

Once she left, Rumpelstiltskin waited. He hadn’t expected for Regina to call social services or for Emma to be taken. Had he known, maybe he wouldn’t have done what he did. There was no way Snow White would have let Emma slip away. But Mary Margaret and David didn’t know the claim they held on their daughter. They fell against the law.

Alas, it was too late. Emma was gone. He had to trust she’d find her way back. He used the rest of the memory potion to wipe away his memories of the 8 months she had spent in town. His mind had become a blur once more.

Until he walked into the bed and breakfast, where an adult Emma stood.

He couldn’t tell her any of that, though. Instead, he watched the woman’s mind reel at the information.

“They didn’t want to lose me,” she whispered.

“They fought for you. There was just nothing they could’ve done. Even my powers as attorney were not enough. Social services didn’t deem them objective enough to foster you.”

A single tear fell down Emma’s face. He reached into his breast pocket, extending a handkerchief that she refused.

  
“My whole life, I thought they had given up on me. But they wanted me.” Emma’s voice cracked. “Why wouldn’t they tell me this?”

“Social services removed you from school without their knowledge. By the time they found out you were gone, it was too late.”

“But even now…”

“Have you given them a chance?”

That shut her up. Emma stared at the file, another tear falling. She wiped at her face furiously, knocking her hand into the swan keychain that hung around her neck. Rumpelstiltskin was not sure why he felt the need to stare at it. Finally, he broke his eyes away to look back at her. She sniffled, trying to compose herself.

“If this is all true….I don’t know what to do with this,” Emma rambled.

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. “Well, I’d at least say you owe them a conversation.”

Emma simply nodded. She picked the file back up and began to head out of the office. Suddenly, he remembered something.

“Oh, and Miss Swan?” She turned back to face him. “Since I helped you with something, I assume you’d be more than willing to get me out of a jam if needed.”

Emma blinked several times, before regaining composure. “What are you going to want?”

“Just as I said. If I need help, you’ll give it.”

Emma looked even more confused, but finally nodded. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

Rumpelstiltskin waited until she exited his shop to smile gleefully to himself.

* * *

It didn’t take long to find Mary Margaret’s new loft. She was a bail bondsman; her job was to find people. After conversing with a few people, she found herself in a dimly lit hallway. A number 3 hung on the green door. The file was back in her bug, but the contents replayed in her mind.

She finally allowed her hand to rap on the door. When it opened, David stood on the other side.

“What are you doing here?” She blurted out. “Isn’t this Mary Margaret’s place?”

David suddenly looked defensive. “She asked me over to talk about…well, to talk about you.” He stared at her for a moment and it made her feel uncomfortable. “I still can’t believe you’re 28.”

“I need to talk to both of you.” She pushed past him, wanting nothing to do with his nostalgia.

Mary Margaret moved from the kitchen. “Emma…” She took in her face. “Are you alright? You look like you’ve been crying.”

“Did you really punch Regina Mills?”

Mary Margaret bit her lip. “She was threatening to take you away from us. I still don’t remember it that clearly…but…” She looked over at David, who was staring at the wall. “I shouldn’t have done it. We would’ve been able to keep you.”

“You defended me. You wanted to keep me.”

Mary Margaret’s eyebrows knitted together. “Of course we did.”

Emma’s voice caught. “You didn’t want to give me away. You…it….”

She tried to keep herself steady. It was bad enough she had cried in front of Gold, she couldn’t do it in front of them too. David moved closer to Mary Margaret, but neither said anything.

“My whole life, I thought you two just gave up on me,” she finally managed to get out. “But you fought for me.”

“Emma, we love you. So much.” David’s eyes were sincere and she hated it. “We never wanted to let you go. If we could’ve stopped it or at the very least explained it to you, we would’ve.”

“But they didn’t even tell us that they were taking you until Helen had already gone to get you from school,” Mary Margaret continued. “They said we couldn’t see you again, that it wouldn’t be healthy.”

She took a step closer to Emma, reaching out to touch her face. Emma didn’t pull away, despite her better instincts. Mary Margaret’s hands were always warm. Comforting. She had missed this. She had missed them. She had spent nights crying herself to sleep, just wishing she could be back in their arms.

Now there they were.

Her eyes burned with tears.

_Don’t cry, don’t cry. You’re gonna look stupid if you cry,_ one voice told her. But it was overshadowed by a memory from when she had lived with them. Mary Margaret caught her crying one night and she had been embarrassed.  
  


_“Big girls don’t cry,” Emma told her foster mom._

_“Oh sweetie, that’s just a dumb myth. Big girls and boys definitely do cry.”’_

The floodgates opened and Emma allowed herself to cry. The tears hit Mary Margaret’s hand, but her former foster mother didn’t seem to care. She simply moved to wrap both of her arms around Emma. A hug. It had been 23 years since the last hug she received from her. She still smelt the same, of cinnamon and red pen. David wrapped one arm around her and then used the over to cradle the back of her head. Just as he had when she was little.

It was comfortable. It was familiar. It was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regina not remembering any of this will be addressed soon. I promise. But for now...the family is reunited. Can it really stay this happy?
> 
> If you do have any questions for me or the characters/prompts/etc: reach out to me on my CuriousCat/Tumblr/Twitter, justanoutlawfic.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina makes life complicated for Emma in the past and present. David and Mary Margaret have an important talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s some canon dialogue from 1x02 & 1x08 in this chapter. I don’t own Once, I just play with their characters.

**August 28** **th** **, 1989**

Mary Margaret's station wagon skidded into the driveway. She threw open the door, not bothering to close it as she raced up the steps and headed into the house. In her peripheral, she could see the familiar car, but begged herself that it wasn't what she thought. She threw the door open, breath heavy. David stood in the entry way, his face heavy. The familiar dark haired social worker stood before him, a frown lined across her lips.

"What's going on?" Mary Margaret asked.

"I'm going to the school next, but I needed to talk to both of you."

"I work there. We could've talked there."

"I didn't want a scene when we took Emma."

Took Emma.

Mary Margaret's eyes widened. She moved closer to her husband, swallowing.

"No," her voice came out in a whisper.

"Mary Margaret," Helen began.

"No! You told us that we could adopt her! We have an attorney! You told us we could tell Emma this! She's so excited!"

"Well all of that changed when you assaulted the mayor, Mrs. Nolan."

An eerie silence fell over the room. David's eyes burned a hole into her head. She hadn't told him about going to the mayor's office or what Regina had said about taking Emma away. Gold said he'd take care of it.

"Listen, she threatened…"

"Mrs. Nolan," Helen interrupted. Her voice is harsh, eyes narrowed. "When you took on the responsibility of fostering children, you agreed to be a good example. That included with your actions. The mayor has agreed not to press charges, but she is worried about your ability to parent."

Mary Margaret's stomach dropped. This wasn't happening. No. She had gotten angry, once. Something came over, it wasn't her. Mary Margaret was a pacifist. She didn't get into fights. It was like she became someone else entirely.

"Please," Mary Margaret pleaded. "It was a mistake. I won't do it again. Emma, she is our world. We love her more than anything. She…she made everything light again!"

"We can't have her at risk, Mrs. Nolan. The mayor has a broken nose, what does that say about your anger?" She turned to David. "I will give you 10 minutes to pack her favorite things. Then I need to go get her."

"We can't even say goodbye?" David's voice sounded broken, tears in his eyes. "Explain things?"

"I don't think that would be wise, Mr. Nolan."

"Please, at least me. She's only 5 and has been through so much trauma. I don't want her to think we're abandoning her."

"Emma needs a clean break. I'll explain everything to her. Now please, Mr. Nolan."

Mary Margaret could see the tears in her husband's eyes. She followed him upstairs and into the bright yellow room that their foster had spent her time in. He started packing clothes into a suitcase.

"David," she whispered. "I…"

"Go, Mary Margaret."

"But Emma…"

David's hands grasped a tiny blue shirt that read the words "Daddy's Girl". "I'm going to try to fix this mess. Just get away from me right now. I can't…I can't look at you."

Mary Margaret swallowed, hard. David's harsh words felt like a heavy slap to her face and it was karma for the pain she had inflicted on him. She turned away from the door and walked towards their room. She slid down the closet door and let herself settle on the plush carpet. She listened as her husband packed their daughter's clothes, sending her to a life without them. Tears poured down her face, just as she was sure they did his own. It started what would be how they handled their pain. Alone.

* * *

Emma sat on the rainbow semi circle rug, surrounded by the other children. She had been nervous to start first grade but after a few days, it really was just like kindergarten. None of her other friends had matriculated over but she was making new ones and she liked Miss Jenny. She had a kind smile and bright purple glasses. They read a funny story about three bears and a girl with blonde curls, just like Emma. She hadn't even needed to grab her baby blanket from her backpack. After many talks with Archie, her parents had agreed that she could bring it to school but it had to stay tucked away unless she got really upset. So far, so good.

Just as Miss Jenny closed the book, a crackled voice rose out from above them. Emma turned her head and saw a boom box type thing risen above the clock, her mom had one in her room.

"Emma Swan to the principal office," the voice said. "Please have her bring her things."

The other kids laughed. Emma's brows furrowed and her lips tugged to a frown. Was her daddy picking her up early? She didn't want him to, she was having fun.

Miss Jenny asked if she knew how to get to the office and Emma nodded, she knew the school well after going a lot with Mary Margaret. She grabbed her backpack and headed into the hall. After two left turns, she was in the office, which had high desks and adults that towered over her. Her parents weren't there, but Helen was. Her frown intensified.

"Helen," she said. "Why are you here?"

Helen crouched in front of her. "Emma, you're going to a new home in Portland."

Emma frowned. "My mommy and daddy are moving?"

Helen sighed. "No, sweetie. Mary Margaret and David are staying here. You're not going to live with them anymore."

Emma let the words register as Helen lead her out of the office and down the hall. That didn't make any sense. Her parents said they were her forever home. She was going to be adopted. She'd stay in Storybrooke forever. She'd never have to leave again.

As they reached the steps, Emma pulled away. "No!"

"Emma," Helen sighed.

"I don't want to leave! I want Mary Margaret and David! I want my parents!"

"Emma, you can't stay here anymore."

"No! This is my home!"

The tears rolled down her face and she clung to the railing, as if she had lived at Storybrooke Elementary all her life. Helen tried to pry her off, but she put her entire weight onto the baluster. Helen grabbed onto her waist and pulled. Emma screamed. She wasn't doing her best like David and Mary Margaret taught her, but she didn't care. She sobbed and kicked. Her teeth bared when Helen managed to pry her off the railing. She leaned into bite her, but Helen was too quick and moved her arm. Emma was forced into the back of the station wagon, still screaming and crying.

Helen wrestled the seatbelt over her and then dug through Emma's backpack. She didn't give into the tears or screams, she never did. Finally, she pulled out the white knit blanket and shoved it into Emma's arms. That silenced her a bit. Helen got up front and pulled her car away from the curb. Emma shoved her thumb into her mouth for comfort, watching the familiar sights zoom by. No more Granny's Diner. No more Ruby babysitting and painting her nails. No more running around the park.

Her eyes went down to the floor of the car and saw her suitcase. She frowned at that. She didn't fit in any clothes that she arrived at the Nolans in. All of her outfits were new.

They were sending her away. This had to be their idea.

So much for promises.

 **October 26** **th** **, 2011**

Emma sat at the table in Mary Margaret's kitchenette, her hands folded together. Mary Margaret kept staring at her like she might disappear again. She'd move her eyes to the coca on the stove, only to look back up at the woman sitting at the table. Emma's eyes were still puffy, her skin pale and stitch from tears. David sat across from her, almost like a sitter, making sure she wouldn't run off again.

After their hug, things had been silent. David had lead Emma over to the table and Mary Margaret decided to fix the hot chocolate. She wasn't sure if her former foster daughter even still liked the hot dessert drink, but she had to do something with her hands. She wasn't sure where it came from, but she was instilled to make hot beverages for guests.

Eventually, Mary Margaret poured the milk chocolate from the pan into three green mugs and added the whipped cream followed by some cinnamon. David hopped up and grabbed two of them. Snow gave him a grateful smile and they headed back to the table, each sitting on either side of Emma. She accepted the cocoa, taking a small sip.

"You still make it with cinnamon," she muttered.

Mary Margaret nodded, her lips turning up a bit more. "Yeah. You still like that, I hope."

"Can't drink it any other way because of you."

Mary Margaret wasn't sure how to respond to that. She took a sip of it on her own and let the spice hit her tongue. She needed that after the day she had.

"So, you two fought for me?" Emma asked bluntly, changing the subject.

David nodded, "After you were taken away, we fought to get you back. But the system said we weren't fit to have you."

Mary Margaret bit her lip. It was her fault and she knew it. "I'm sorry, Emma," she said. "If I hadn't punched Regina you would still be here."

Emma frowned, shaking her head. "That may be true but you were defending our family. You wanted to protect me. No one…" She sucked back a deep breath. "No one's ever done that for me before."

Mary Margaret looked away. She had always blamed herself, she probably always would. She had David to do that, especially. She couldn't even look him in the eyes right now.

"What's important now," David said. "Is that we have each other now. We can move past all of this."

Mary Margaret looked back at Emma and saw the doubt on her face. She wasn't sure what that meant. Was she thinking of leaving already? "You don't want to stay."

"It's not that," Emma said. "It's just that I don't think Regina does. I've given her and Henry space but she's still weirded out that I've stuck around this long. I think once my bug is fixed, I should go."

"If you're leaving Henry alone and sending him back when he comes to you then you're not doing anything wrong," David told her. "You have every right to be here."

"Please stay, Emma," Mary Margaret pleaded. "We lost so much time with you already. We don't want to lose any more."

Emma's finger lingered around the rim of the mug. Mary Margaret held her breath, not waning to push too far. Emma had been through so much. She could snap and leave if spooked.

Finally, she looked up, her green eyes assured. "Another week won't kill me," she said.

Mary Margaret grinned and she could feel David's hand slide through her own.

After hot chocolate, Emma headed back to Granny's. To Mary Margaret's surprise, David stayed behind to help her clean up. It was only three cups but he carried them to the kitchen with her and they lathered them with pine scented dish soap, turning on the warm water.

"I don't blame you," he said, softly.

The mug slipped from her hand and crashed into the sink. It cracked, a few pieces falling into the sink. Mary Margaret's pruny's fingers remained under the running water, her wide eyes staring forward.

"Get the fuck out of here."

"Mary Margaret…"

"You can't just say that to me!"

"Mary Margaret, please just listen to me!"

"Where the hell was this over 20 years ago, David?" She turned off the sink, her hands falling to her hips. "Where was this when our house was so quiet that all we could hear at dinner was our forks scratching the plates? Where was this when you started sleeping in the guest room? Where was this when I cried in every dark corner so you wouldn't hear?"

"I…"

"I blamed myself!" She cried out. "I hated myself! I hated myself for defending our family! For making us lose her! I mourned her! But you pushed me away! You left me!"

The tears fell down her face. She remembered missing him, when he was only two feet away, in the same fucking bed as her. She needed David. She needed his hug. His comfort.

"You told Helen we didn't want to foster anymore, you shut me out! You hated me!"

"I never hated you!"

"Then what, David!" Snow thundered.

"I was upset at first, yes, but in time I just missed her and I…I didn't want to talk about it. No other child was going to replace her. I couldn't foster anymore. I couldn't be at home anymore. And when I looked at you, I saw her. I was reminded of her and all the good times and I got broken all over again!"

Mary Margaret's mouth dropped open.

"Why didn't you tell me that?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.

He bit his lip, tears spilling down his face. "I was hurting."

"And I wasn't? She was my daughter too. I loved her just as much as you."

"I know but I just…couldn't talk about it. Maybe if I had…"

The end of that sentence lingered over them like a brick. Maybe they wouldn't be divorced. Maybe Mary Margaret wouldn't blame herself. Maybe…

"I'm sorry, Mary Margaret," he whispered. "I never wanted you to think…"

"But it was," she interrupted. "I did punch her and consequences came from that."

She brushed the back of her hand at her eyes.

"I'm tired," she said. "And I just really wanna go to bed."

He stared at her for a moment with his big blue eyes, biting his lip.

"Okay," he whispered.

He leaned in, kissing her cheek. Mary Margaret waited until his boots ascended the stairs to slide onto the bed and let the tears stream down.

* * *

Emma sat in the diner the next day, waiting on her fruit loops. She was due to spend time with David later and needed all the sugar rush she could get. Despite the clearance of her past, she was still nervous. A lot had changed in 23 years, at least with her. What if things had changed with him, too?

"Is it true?"

Emma looked up at the sound of Henry's voice. The young boy stood there, wearing his long gray coat and what she was starting to guess trademark red scarf. A copy of the Storybrooke Daily Mirror was tucked under his arm. Emma opted out of that for her room, she didn't care much for the newspaper.

"Is what true, kid?"

"This, Sidney wrote it."

He unfolded the paper and revealed her mug shot from her first night in town on the front page. On top in big black, bold font read: **EX-JAIL BIRD**. Below it, a sub-headline: **EMMA SWAN BIRTHED BABE BEHIND BARS**.

Emma's heart quickened as she snatched the paper from him, quickly scanning the article. Glass told a tale of their "mysterious visitor", questioning how much they really knew about her. Was she safe for their town? Then he detailed her criminal history and finished it with, "Maybe we shouldn't be so trusting of Miss Swan".

This wasn't his doing at all. It was Regina's and it made her skin crawl.

"Is it a lie?" Henry asked.

Emma looked up at him, his eyes so innocent. Regina had to know he'd see this. Why would she set him up for that? Hurt her, not him.

"No," she admitted,

"I was born in jail?" Henry asked incredulously.

It was far more complicated than that, but Emma didn't know how to explain it to a 10 year old. "These records were supposed to be sealed," she said, instead. He didn't look convinced. "It was just…a long time ago and a story for when you're much, much older. Look, let's just throw this away." She crumpled up the newspaper. "Please, tell me this isn't going to scar you for life."

"I guess this won't," he mumbled.

"Good."

After buying Henry breakfast and sending him off to school, Emma texted David that she'd be running a bit late. She walked down to the mayor's office, pushing straight through into the pristine black and white decorated room.

"This was a juvie record!" She demanded. "It was sealed by court order. I don't know how you got it, but it's an abuse of power and illegal."

Regina didn't look up from her paperwork. "Oh, I'm sorry did you not want people to know you cut his cord with a shiv?"

"I don't care what other people think of me, I care if Henry gets hurt!"

"He would've found out eventually."

"Yeah, eventually. When he's older and not from a newspaper! This is hurting him, Madam Mayor!"

Regina looked up from her work. "And what do you know about child rearing, Miss Swan?"

"I can't say it's much. But when I went to your house, I told you that you were doing a great job. I backed off. Henry's come to me. Not the other way around! And that's not my fault!"

"Well maybe it'd be best for everyone involved if you left town."

"Why? If I'm not involved with Henry, why does it bother you that I'm in town? Why is it such a threat to you? Why was it such a threat 20 years ago?"

Regina's brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

”You're the one that picked a fight with Mary Margaret, you made her lose custody of me. If you hadn't threatened her…"

"Miss Swan, I don't know what you're talking about and I honestly don't care about your personal life. What I do care about is the welfare of my son. So, if you know what's good for you, you'll leave."

Emma narrowed her eyes, her hands clamping the desk.

"I'll leave Henry alone," she said. "Just like I have been. I'll send him home every time. I'll watch him from afar. But let me tell you one thing, _Madam Mayor_. You're not running me out of this town again."

* * *

David smiled as Emma walked up the path to the woods.

"Ready for this hike?" he asked.

Emma nodded. "I need it."

David bit his lip as they started walking. "I saw the article."

"I'm sure the whole town has at this point."

"Do you…wanna talk about it?"

Emma sighed, running her hand through her curls. After a few moments of silence, she spoke again.

"I ran away from my last foster home when I was 16. I was on the run for a bit. Then I met Henry's father. His name was Neal. Nice eyes, goofy smile," David could see her own lips tug up. "For awhile, we were each other's everything."

David felt his muscles tense at this story going bad. "But?"

"We stole already. Just enough to get by," Emma clarified. "Food, medicine, that kind of thing." David nodded. He was a cop, but he understood the world wasn't totally black and white. "But one day, Neal revealed that before we met he had lifted a few cases of watches from a jewelry store. It was so stupid and the cops were looking for him. He was going to take off for Canada but my genius 17 year old self had a better idea. Sell the watches to a fence, take the cash, get new identities and start over in Florida."

David raised an eyebrow. He had to remind himself that Emma was her own person and not the little girl he had known back then. He wasn't used to this side of her. Still, he didn't judge. He gestured for Emma to continue.

"The watches were in a storage locker. I picked them up, Neal went to sell them and told me to keep one, we'd meet up later. Except he never showed up." She sucked back a deep breath. "A cop did, though."

David frowned. "Oh, Emma."

"He said that they got an anonymous tip, probably Neal. They never found him or the other watches. I got 11 months since I just had the one. Neal sent me the key to our car a few weeks after I was sentenced. By then, I found out I was pregnant, but I knew I couldn't keep the baby."

In that moment, she looked so young, vulnerable. David tentatively reaches out and put a hand on her back. Emma sniffles and scrubbed her face, quickly pulling away.

"Stupid for believing it'd work out anyway," she mumbled.

"Hey," David whispered. "He's the stupid one."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Feel like I should say you have to say that."

"I don't."

Emma ducked her head, but David saw the small smile. "Dork."

David smiled himself. "Whatever you say." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "I can't believe they printed that in the paper. If you were 17, the record should be sealed."

"Regina couldn't care less."

"Yeah, she got softer after she adopted Henry but with him only."

"I just don't get how I'm a threat to her. I stay away from her kid. I'm just trying to live my life.”

"Well, you won't have to face her alone."

* * *

Emma turned the key to her room at the inn, pushing it open. She needed a shower after that hike, but it was a lot of fun.

"Miss Swan," Emma turned at the sound of Granny's voice. The older woman's face wrinkled more than usual out of concern. "Oh this is terribly awkward. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"We have a no-felons rule. Turns out it's a city ordinance."

Emma bit her lip and tipped her head upwards laughing, despite herself. Regina really outdid herself with that one. No felons could sleep at the inn…how biblical. "Let me guess, the mayor's office just called to remind you?"

Granny slowly nodded, her eyes almost in a cult like trance. She was just as much under Regina's control as she was Gold's. This wasn't the same woman who yelled at Ruby to put on a longer skirt every morning. This was a woman in fear of losing her livelihood. "You can gather your things, but I need your key back."

Emma kept a smile on her face as she extended her key into Granny's hand. "I'll be out in a half hour."

She didn't have much to pack and took a quick shower, not knowing when she'd get the chance again. As she made her way down to her rental car, she threw her bag into the back and slid into the front seat.

The chess game just got a bit more complicated.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma is uncomfortable with Graham. Meanwhile, she gets closer to Mary Margaret.

Emma sits in a corner booth of Granny's, a large order of onion rings in front of her. A copy of the mirror is betwixt her fingers as she scans the rentals. After two nights in her car, she's not up to spend another. Winter is approaching and she needs somewhere with heat. She's crashed in her car before or worse, but she'd rather not if she doesn't have to. Considering she's an adult with a job (that she's taken a leave of absence from), she can afford an apartment.

If only there were any available. Granny's is the only bed and breakfast, and they won't have her. Everywhere else has a 2-3 month wait. She can put her name in, but she isn't even sure if she's sticking around Storybrooke that long.

Sighing, she sets the paper down and takes a bite of her onion ring. The crunchy treat gives her some form of solace during this time. She's never been a huge fan of French fries, they don't add the same amount of zest to a meal.

As she takes a sip of her Coke, she hears something wiz by. Looking up, she can see an arrow land on the bullseye of the dart board. Graham grins and goes to gather the rest. Emma rolls her eyes and takes another sip. She's tried to ignore Graham ever since he arrested her. It's become clear how in the pocket of the mayor he is. She's driven by the house a few times and seen him sneak out without a shirt at various hours of the night. It's none of her business, but she certainly wouldn't be involved with Regina if she had a choice.

Graham turns to her and grins. "I never miss," he says.

Emma nods. "Good for you."

"Wanna play?"

"No thanks. How can I beat that?"

"Oh come on, I'll show you."

"I'm good, really."

She turns back to the paper and flips around to see if there's a comic section. Does this town have any humor in it at all?

Then, Graham is sliding on the other side of her booth, uninvited. "Oh," is all she says.

"I remember when you were a little girl," he says. Booze reeks off his breath. She can see empty shot glasses on a nearby table with a few extra darts. "So cute and sweet. You used to draw pictures for all of us at the station."

Emma shifts in her seat, an uncomfortable feeling bubbling in her stomach. "Okay."

"But how is it that you grew up but I'm still this young?"

"I don't know. The town is weird."

Graham sighs in frustration, causing his alcohol laced breath to cover her face more.

"I just…I think there's something about it, you know? Like none of us remember jack about our old lives. And then you come."

A smile grows across his face and the uncomfortableness in Emma's stomach strengthens. This isn't the same Graham that gave her lollipops and complimented her butterfly art. He was starting to creep her out. Majorly.

"I gotta go," she says. She rifles through her wallet and pulls out some cash.

"Do you think we could meet up later? Talk?"

"I don't think so."

"Emma…"

"Graham, I'm sorry you're having a crisis but I don't think I'm the girl to help you with it."

She slaps the money down and heads to the door. Just as she's about to leave, there's more wizzing by her ear, this time closer. A dart hits the paneling by the blinds and Emma jumps back, her hand flying over her chest. She spins to face Graham, eyes wide.

"You could've hit me!" People are staring and her anxiety is on high. Why the hell is he doing this to her?

"Like I said," he smirks. "I never miss."

Emma's mouth drops open, her eyes wide. She tries to form a snappy comeback, but for once, she can't. Instead, she just grabs the handle and storms out to her rental, desperately wishing she had a place to take a hot shower and wash off that icky feeling.

* * *

Mary Margaret walks down Main Street, folding her arms over her chest. The stars are a guide for a place she doesn't know she wants to go. After the date she just had, she's going to need it.

After David, she didn't date. She was heartbroken, both by the loss of him and Emma. Everyone in town tried to set her up but she'd turn them down. With Emma's return and being on better terms with David, she thought maybe she could stomach a new date. Victor Whale had asked her for a late night drink after his shift at Granny's. She figured it couldn't hurt.

He barely listened to her talk about her job, Emma or what she wanted for the future. She knew the date was doomed when she caught him staring at Ruby's ass. He had paid for the check so at most, the free beer had been the only highlight of the evening.

David had been a gentlemen. Opening doors, while knowing she could very well knock down her own. He supported her, loved her. He was an excellent husband and father.

And she had screwed it all up.

As Mary Margaret turns down the corner, she caught sight of Emma's rental, causing her to raise an eyebrow. Shouldn't that be parked at the bed and breakfast? She walks over and finds Emma sitting up in the front seat, looking over the paper. Emma jumps a bit, before cranking the window down.

"Hey," she says. "You okay?"

"Oh," Emma sets her flashlight down. "In the world of tight spots I've been in, crashing in my car doesn't even rank in the top 10. Having it be a rental car even makes it fancier."

Mary Margaret frowns, her maternal instincts kicking in. "You're sleeping here?"

"Regina got me kicked out of the inn. Apparently felons can't stay there."

Mary Margaret's frown increased. She knew Regina had superfluous rules, but this had to be up there. What did she have against her former foster daughter?

Emma gets out of the car. "But the stupid town has no vacancies."

Mary Margaret thinks about what Henry's always saying and decides to lighten the moment. "Must be the curse."

Emma snorts. "What are you doing out so late?"

"I had a date." Emma's face falls. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just…weird you not being with David."

For a minute, Mary Margaret can see that same little girl that asked to sleep between them because there was a monster under her bed. "If you wanna talk about it…"

"No, it's fine. I mean, it's not like you guys adopted me or anything."

"Still," Mary Margaret says, gently. "Change isn't easy."

"No, but I'm used to it. So, tell me about your date."

Mary Margaret is hesitant. To her, Emma is still a child she needs to protect. Mary Margaret has adjusted to the divorce. Emma hasn't yet, it's brand new. Can she handle hearing about this?

Yet, Emma looks at her expectantly, so she decides to spill.

"They went as well as they ever do," she says.

Emma makes a face. "That bad?" Mary Margaret nods. "Tell me he at least paid?"

"I'll give him that. But he also found Ruby's butt to be appealing."

Emma crinkles her nose. "Ew."

"Well, if true love was easy, we'd all have it."

She had it. Or she thought she did. Then she let it all go to hell.

Mary Margaret looks at the rental car before returning her gaze to Emma. She can't let her stay here. She made a vow a long time ago to protect her and she can't turn back on that now.

"I have a spare room," she says, trying to sound as casual as possible. "You should come stay with me."

Emma falters. "Oh. Mary Margaret…I…" She sighs. "I'm not really the roommate type."

"Maybe not, but we lived together once."

"That was different."

Mary Margaret knows she's right. But she also knows she can't let Emma live in her car. Something in her keeps pushing.

"You said yourself you may not stay that long," the thought stings her mind. "So would it kill you to stay in my loft?"

* * *

Emma considers it. She did once love living with Mary Margaret. She made great cookies, was kind and treated her well.

But she's changed in 23 years. She does better on her own. Getting to know Mary Margaret and David better was hard enough to agree to, but living with one of them?

She thinks about how much she's missed them. How much she's resented them too. This could all blow up in their faces.

And still, she can't find more of a reason to say no.

Change was hard. Mary Margaret said that herself. Coming to Storybrooke was a change, a hard one at that. Maybe it was time to make another.

"Okay," she says.

Mary Margaret smiles. "Okay?"

"Just for a trial period, until I can get another place."

"As long as you need."

* * *

Emma moves the few things she has on her into the loft at Mary Margaret's place. It's got two beds, with quilts not quite her style. The whole place has a "retired grandma" feel, not Mary Margaret's style at all. Emma can remember bright lemon yellows, peppermint pinks and baby blues around the old house. Here, everything is covered with dust ruffles and wallpaper.

"The place came furnished," Mary Margaret says with a shrug.

"And you kept it," Emma gestures to the couch. "Mary Margaret, that thing is ugly."

Mary Margaret laughs. "Here 10 minutes and you want to redecorate?"

"Look, I'm just surprised that you're okay with it. At our old house, you would've never let that fugly throw rug in here."

Mary Margaret toes it with her sock covered foot. She lets out a tiny sigh.

"I guess I've been alone all this time, I never gave it much thought."

"Well," Emma says. "You're not alone now."

Mary Margaret smiles, before holding up a finger. "What does fugly mean?"

They pour over magazines from the local furniture shop and make decisions, alongside a six pack of beer. A new grey couch along with lots of new throw blankets. The girls each purchase a new bed for the bedrooms, even though Mary Margaret tried to stop Emma from buying the one for the loft. A quick text to Mr. Gold and he says he'll have men come to pick up the old furniture before the new arrives.

"I'll have to get a job if I stick around," Emma says. "Something tells me you guys don't use bail bonds people."

"Is that what you do?"

Emma nods. "Started a few years ago."

"What is it exactly?"

"I find people. Mostly those that skipped bail, thus the name. Then I get paid for finding them and turning them in."

"Wow."

Emma nods. "I met one after my stint in jail. She really helped me out. When we parted ways, I knew what I wanted to do."

Mary Margaret squeezes her arm. "I'm sure you could figure something out with David. He's the sheriff. We don't have many people skipping out on bail, but maybe he could use you for something."

"I don't want him to think I'm using him."

"Sweetie, you're not. He'd love to help you."

* * *

As it turned out, Mary Margaret was right. David wanted to use her skills to help find people in town. As it turned out, he had wanted to start a bail bondsman company for awhile but didn't have anyone for it. With room in the budget, he hired her on.

Within a week, Emma got her baby back and it felt so good to be able to drive her bug around. Billy assured there'd be no more problems and Emma gave him a good tip for helping out with her.

Another week later, and her boxes from her old apartment were delivered to Mary Margaret's loft. Living with Mary Margaret really wasn't as bad as she thought it'd be. They went to Granny's a lot, talked about Mary Margaret's dates over beers and watched movies on the couch. Emma got to hang out with David at work and even saw him a few times outside of it.

"Is this all your stuff?" Mary Margaret asks.

"I don't have a lot," Emma admits. "Most of it is clothes."

She grabs hold of her sweatshirts and heads for the coat closet. As she's hanging them up, she spots a plush hand sticking out of a box on the ground. Emma kneels down, curiosity getting the best of her. She pulls back the box, lifting back the lid.

Her eyes sparkle with tears at the contents. Her old lunchbox, Rainbow Brite themed. She had loved Rainbow Brite as a kid, for the little dog especially. She opened it and found the note from David, her breath catching. He wrote that, every single day.

Her finger traced over the Daddy part and she bit down on her lip to suppress a sob. A reminder at what was stolen from her so long ago.

She sets the note back down and sees the sign. Her room had been bright yellow, with lots of hints to the sun and sunflowers. To this day, they were still her favorites, the song, "You are my sunshine", David and Mary Margaret sang to her every night before sleep. She removes the sign from the box and traces the cursive writing, almost hearing their beautiful voices in synch with one another.

Once the sign was back in the box, she found the lamb. David had gifted it to her and she named him Luke, after Luke Skywalker. He was one of her favorite toys, only second to…

"June," she whispers.

June Sofia, her Cabbage Patch doll. Emma was never one for dolls but even the Cabbage Patch craze had hit her. For Valentine's Day that year, she remembered David giving Mary Margaret a box of chocolates and a beautiful necklace. Mary Margaret gave him his own box and some cologne. Together, her parents gave her a heart shaped box candy and her very own Cabbage Patch. With blonde popcorn curls, green bug eyes and chubby cheeks, she was almost creepy looking but Emma adored her. Especially her pink dinosaur print overalls. She listened with pride as Mary Margaret read her name out loud from her birth certificate.

June and Emma had been inseparable for a great deal of time, adding Luke to the mix when David brought him home one afternoon as a surprise.

She still has the Mac and cheese stain from Emma refusing to put her down when they had dinner. Her left cheek is scuffed because 5 year old Emma needed to see just how durable her doll was.

Emma pushes back the knit curls, a single tear falling down.

"David put it back in the wrong closet."

Emma looks up and finds Mary Margaret standing there. "Huh?"

"Normally I have that stuff in my closet. But one day right after you showed up, David came y and we looked through it. He put it back here by mistake I guess," Mary Margaret's voice is quiet. She kneels next to Emma. "I remember picking her out for you."

"I was so excited."

"We were going to send her with you, Luke too. But by the time David packed your clothes, Helen told us you had to go."

Emma sighs. "She was in rare form that day. Normally she wasn't so…"

"I think she was just scared for you."

"I was never in danger here."

And that's what angers her. It was all for nothing. Mary Margaret wasn't a threat. She loved her back then. She cared for her. They were a family.

But because of Regina Mills, it was all ripped away.

"The rest of your toys, I found it hard to keep. But June and Luke…I couldn't part with."

Emma nods, the doll and lamb still in her arms. "Yeah."

"You should keep them."

"Mary Margaret, I'm…"

"I know. But they're yours. And I always wanted to give them back."

Emma nods, holding them a bit closer out of habit. She gets up and heads for the stairs.

"You still have this."

Emma turns to find Mary Margaret looking at her baby blanket. She lifts it out, shaking it and rubbing her fingers over it.

"Yeah," Emma says.

"Still so beautiful," Mary Margaret mumbles.

Emma heads for the stairs. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Mary Margaret sniff her baby blanket. For a moment, it looks like something comes over her. But then, she shakes it off and sets the blanket down, heading into the kitchen.

Upstairs, Emma sets June and Luke on a shelf. She settles onto her bed, letting out a deep breath.

"Welcome home," she mutters.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David helps Emma with her first job in Storybrooke. Will it inspire him to make a change?

**10 years ago…**

Regina sat in her booth at Granny's, Henry in his car seat. Ever since they returned from Boston, he had been easier. He still fussed, but he had seemed to outgrow crying every time she came in sight. Regina wondered if it was her choosing him with the knowledge of who he really was.

That knowledge still built a pit in the bottom of her stomach.

Mary Margaret, no Snow, sat a few tables away. She picked at a sandwich, her eyes not lifting up no matter who bumped into her table or how loud the diner got. The bell above the door dinged and David walked in. One look at Mary Margaret and he backed out. She didn't even notice he was there.

This wasn't the Snow White and Prince Charming she knew. They fought for each other. They agreed on curses to save one another.

Now they couldn't even look the other in the eye.

Regina had gotten rid of Emma to save her curse. It had been worth it to see Snow miserable at first. She should be. Because of Snow, Regina lost everything she held dear: Daniel, her future, her freedom. Snow deserved to suffer.

But now Regina was a mother. She loved this little bundle of chubby cheeks, hazel eyes and sweet smelling goodness. All she wanted was to protect him from the world. Just as Snow had her daughter.

Suddenly, this wasn't fun anymore.

What could she do, though? Emma was 18. She had just given birth to a baby boy, one that Regina held in her arms. Emma had given up her child, probably because she had her only parents ripped from her. She didn't even know they were biologically hers.

Mary Margaret would watch Henry grow up. She had held him and the look in her eyes had been a dagger to Regina's gut. So much love and care. Despite how badly Regina wanted to hate her, she couldn't help but feel…

Guilt.

And how could she raise her son happily with the knowledge that she had ripped a family apart?

Henry started to fuss in his car seat and Regina lifted him out, cuddling him close. She stroked the light brown fuzz atop his head. She thought of the crypt in the cemetery, the one of that held her father and Daniel. It also held the little bit of magic that had come over to this land.

She could forget everything that she did. She'd remember her son, the curse, her hatred for Snow White.

She'd simply erase her memory of Emma Swan, her guilt.

It was the only one way she could raise her son in peace. Without the voices in her head haunting her.

Regina carefully strapped Henry into his car seat again and placed some money down for her breakfast. She grabbed hold of the seat and exited the diner, heading in the direction of the Storybrooke Cemetery.

**Present Day**

Emma enters the station, a tray of coffees in hand. She's only been working for David for a few weeks, but she already knows everyone's favorites. Considering there hasn't been any official bail bondsperson business, it's all she's been doing as of late anyway. David's given her filing to do and she cleans up around the station. She's paid well but the excitement from Boston is gone. If it weren't for her former foster parents and Henry, she almost wouldn't find the job worth it.

That day, however, she spots a strange sight. Mr. Gold stands before David, the latter of whom has his arms folded over his chest. Emma settles the tray of coffee down and heads over to them.

"Ah, there's Miss Swan," Gold says. His eyes sparkle with glee and Emma shifts a bit. "Just the woman I needed."

"I just don't know if it's a good case for her," David interjects.

"Sheriff Nolan, do you offer a bail bondsperson service or not?"

"We do, but this case…"

"David," Emma holds up a hand. "I'm capable of speaking for myself." She turns back to Mr. Gold. "What is it?"

Gold clears his throat. "I had a break in my shop, someone tried to steal a contract."

"Contract?"

"Ashley Boyd. Have you met her?"

Emma recalls seeing her in the back of Granny's back when she was still homeless. Ashley is heavily pregnant, just a teenager. She lamented to Emma that no one thought she could do it and Emma made it clear that she couldn't let life step all over her like that.

" _People are gonna tell you who you are your whole life. You just gotta punch back and say, "No, this is who I am". You want people to look at you differently? Make them! You want to change things, you're gonna have to go out there and change them yourself, because there are no fairy godmothers in this world."_

Had her speech inspired Ashley to commit a crime of some sort?

"What is this contract?" Emma asks.

"Adoption. Ashley has already agreed to give her child up for adoption. But it seems like she's having second thoughts."

Emma arches an eyebrow. "That's not illegal. Until the adoption is finalized, she has rights." Gold stares at her. "I've been through this before. She can't sign anything until at least 48 hours after the child is born."

Gold continues to stare at her, his death glare commencing. Emma simply shrugs.

"Now, it is illegal to break and enter. That's a matter for the police, though."

"Ashley is missing," David says. "I sent someone to her house and she wasn't there."

Emma sighs. "She's running."

"How would you know?"

"Like I said, experience." She zips up her jacket. "I think it's time I put my skills to use before she does something stupid."

It's time to chase and she can't wait.

"Emma, are you sure?" David says, gently. "This case, it could hit home."

"Exactly why I'm doing it. Anyone who wants their baby should have a chance to raise it."

David sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine. But you're not doing it alone."

"David…"

"It is sheriff business too."

Gold grins. "A family case. How nice."

Emma squirms at the word family. She was never that, not officially. And even now, she doesn't know what to call herself when it comes to David. He's her former foster father but she has tons of those. Why is she sticking around for this one?

She shakes it off. The why isn't important. All that matters right now is finding Ashley.

* * *

First they go to Sean's dad but he proves to be no help. Sean hides behind his dad, letting him talk poorly about the girl he supposedly loves. This isn't him and David isn't sure how he knows that. He's barely spoken to Sean his entire life. This whole thing just screams out of character behavior.

Seeing Emma stand up to Michael is impressive. She has an argument for every one of his points. His ignorant stance on young parenting isn't working on her. David worries if it's too much for Emma, given her past, especially when Michael challenges that all the kids have is a backseat of a car.

"Some people only have the backseat of a car," Emma fires back with vigor.

David can see the passion in her eyes and he thinks of Neal. The guy who shared the backseat with his foster daughter. The one who fathered Henry. To Emma, that had been everything.

What would her life had been like if she had been raised with them?

It's a thought he doesn't allow himself anymore. In the past, it just brought him pain. So, he buried it deep. If Emma hadn't existed, he wouldn't hurt. It didn't work, of course. He only missed her more. The only person who would get it, he had been so mad at. Once he forgave her, he didn't know how to vocalize it. Then it was too late and he didn't know how to fix it.

So, he did something out of character for himself. He was cowardly. He ran. And he regretted it every day of his life.

Sean was a dead end so they decided to head to Ashley's workplace. After talking to Ruby, they find out that Ashley borrowed her car but she doesn't know where she went. They return to Emma's bug, ready to tear Storybrooke apart. David hardly doubts Ashley will spend much time behind bars, if any. Gold wants blood for this contract but if what Emma says is true, he has no legal claim to the baby.

A hazy memory of trying to adopt domestically before they turned to foster appears but is pushed back with Gold telling him it was just too complicated. His better bet was fostering. He still didn't get why he had steered him away but would get caught up with Ashley.

"So," David says as they keep their eyes peeled. "How's life at Mary Margaret's?"

"It's not bad. She won't take rent."

David chuckles. "No surprise there. She's always been stubborn."

"Flowers are taking over the apartment lately."

"She always loved them," he remembers fondly as Emma turns off Main Street. They're heading towards the edge of town now.

"Not from her." Emma rolls her eyes. "Whale."

"Whale? The doctor?"

"He's trying to make up for their shitty date."

David frowns and he's not sure why. He and Mary Margaret have been divorced for years now. She's allowed to move on, to be with whoever she wants. He made that choice for them the day he moved out.

So why does a pit of jealousy bubble up in his stomach?

"Whale," David repeats. "She went out with Whale."

Emma pauses, her nose crinkling. "I'm sorry," she says. "I shouldn't have said anything. This is awkward."

"No, no," David says. "I want you to tell me stuff. I just wasn't expecting this."

"If it helps, it didn't go well. He flirted with Ruby the whole time from what I got." Emma rolls her eyes again. "He thinks cheap roses will make it better."

Which is stupid, because if you want to apologize to Mary Margaret, you get her snowbells. They're her favorite flower. David scoured Game of Thrones for them every Valentine's Day, anniversary and the rare time she felt blue.

Victor Whale didn't know her. He did.

But he supposed he wasn't supposed to anymore.

"Is that her?" Emma's voice cuts through his mind.

David looks up, a bright red Camaro in his line of vision. He and Emma jump out of the bug. Ruby's fender is dented and smoke billows from the hood. Next to the car is a ditch where a heavily pregnant Ashley is cuddled up, clutching her stomach.

David reaches to help her but Ashley lets out a scream of pain. She clutches her stomach more and Emma gasps, getting in the ditch beside her. She grips Ashley's hand and whispers to her while the younger blonde screams in agony. David feels his lips tug up at the scene, just a bit, out of pride.

When Ashely's screams finish, she looks up at Emma. Her age shows in her deep blue eyes. "I was trying to leave but then the car broke down. Then I just…"

"Started contracting?" Emma finishes. Ashley nods. "We need to get you to the hospital."

"No!" Ashley cries. "I have to get to Boston."

"A 4 hour drive? Ashley, you're in labor."

"But my baby…Gold…"

"I won't let him take your baby. I promise. Just let David help us out of here." Ashley still looks hesitant. "Hey, remember what I said? About making our own destiny, I believe that. Do you?" Ashley slowly nods. "Then believe that you can fight for your baby. It's going to be tough

and once you do it, there's no going back. You can't run. Do you think you can manage that."

"Y….yes."

"Good. Then believe in me and let David help you."

Ashley lets out a shaky breath before slowly extending her hand. David helps Ashley then Emma out of the ditch. He watches with pride as Emma leads the other girl to the bug, rubbing her back.

* * *

Emma grabs the soda from the machine's slot, cracking it open. She lets the cool cola soothe her throat after this difficult day. Ashley is in a room, settled. Her baby will be here soon and Emma is ready to fight anyone who wants to take her.

"Miss Swan."

Speak of the devil.

She turns to face Gold. He's balancing his cane and yet another Manila envelope. "You four Miss Boyd," he says.

"I did."

"And as soon as her baby is born…"

"She's keeping her baby. Any contract you have, is gone."

Gold arches an eyebrow. "You sound confident."

"Try me."

Gold purses his lips, dragging his cane against the floor. "There's still the matter of her attacking me in my shop."

"Are you gonna press charges against a woman 5 minutes postpartum?"

"Not for the right price."

Emma grips the soda can.

"What do you want?"

"You already owe me one favor," Gold says. "Now we'll make it two."

Emma laughs. "You're a corrupt little man."

"And you could have Miss Boyd end up like you. In jail, her baby a ward of the state and then I already win."

Emma looks back to the labor and delivery wing, shaking her head. She can't let another person go through what she did. Henry was given the best life possible, as weird as Regina may seem. But she cannot let this baby end up in the system.

"Fine," she says. "Two deals."

Gold's smile turns sick and Emma shivers. "That's what I thought."

He turns on his cane and heads for the exit.

"You knew I wouldn't let her end up in prison," Emma calls out.

"I'm not a dumb man," Gold tells her.

Emma watches him disappear, her suspicion building. What power does this man hold?

* * *

David stands in the doorway of the maternity room. Ashley holds her baby, Sean crouched beside her. He showed up. He apologized. And she forgave him. Just like that.

Something he had struggled to do with Mary Margaret after Emma was taken, Ashley did in a matter of seconds. Was it for the baby? Or was it for them?

And that's what David repeats to himself: if he goes back to Mary Margaret is it for them or because Emma is back? Their marriage fell apart when she left and now when she's back, they're thrust back together.

It's funny how a kid can do that.

He knows he loves Mary Margaret. He never stopped. He forgave her a long time ago. But could she forgive him?

Can they get their second chance?

He thinks about it as he drives the bug back to Mary Margaret's loft. Emma is barely awake when they leave the hospital, it's been quite the day, so he offers to drive. She must be too tired to argue. By the time they get to the loft, she's out. David smiles and gently shakes her awake.

"Em," he says. "We're home."

Emma's eyes barely open. "Ugh."

"I know, but come on."

He walks around and opens her door, undoing her belt. She stumbles out of the car and sleepily heads for the building. David wraps an arm around her for support and leads her inside, up the stairs. Her head falls against his shoulder and he's reminded of when she was a little girl. He'd have to carry her up to bed after movie nights, her clinging to him. Mary Margaret would help pry her off so she'd settle into bed.

David knocks on the door and Mary Margaret answers. She smiles at the scene and nods to the stairs. David continues to lead a half-asleep Emma up the stairs to her loft bedroom. His former foster daughter collapses back on her bed and falls asleep almost immediately. Mary Margaret reaches over and grabs a throw blanket from the basket nearby and spreading it on top of her. They stand there for a moment, watching her sleep, just as they did when she was younger. She still softly snores, letting her presence be known. She curls up and places her hand under her curls. It's so weird to David how some things never change.

Eventually, they make it downstairs. "Busy day, I assume?" Mary Margaret asks.

David nods. "We helped find Ashley Boyd and made sure she could keep her baby."

"Oh, wow. Didn't realize that was police business."

"It is when she assaults Gold first." Mary Margaret raises an eyebrow. "It all worked out."

"I'm glad and I am happy that you guys get to work together." She moves towards the kitchen. "Are you hungry? I ordered Chinese and of course I got too much."

David smiles. "I'd love to."

They sit at the island, eating noodles and egg rolls as they discuss their day. He tells Mary Margaret how brave Emma was with both Gold and Ashley. Mary Margaret shows a sense of pride, with tears in her eyes. She talks about her own day, sharing worry about the twins in her class. Nicholas and Ava Braun have been showing up late and not in the best condition. Whenever she rings their house, she gets no response. David offers to help her and she gets a small smile on her face.

"This is nice," she says, taking a small sip of her beer. "No fighting, just talking. It's almost like…" She trails off but David knows what she wants to say.

"I miss it too."

"David…"

"No, Mary Margaret. I'm sorry."

Mary Margaret looks up at him, her green eyes wide.

"I'm sorry I pulled away from you. I was just so angry, I didn't know how to talk to you anymore."

"If I hadn't punched Regina, we'd still have her."

"You made a mistake but that didn't make you unlovable."

Mary Margaret looks away, her eyes glassing over.

"I…I buried my feelings so deep and by the time I figured them all out, I didn't know how to say I wasn't mad anymore. By then, our marriage was so broken, we were barely talking. So I just ran and that wasn't fair to you, I'm sorry."

Mary Margaret looks back to him, a single tear streaming down her cheek. "I'm sorry," she says. "I'm sorry I punched Regina and didn't tell you. I'm sorry I got our baby taken away."

David covers her hand. "I forgive you. I'm sorry I never said it, but I do."

A sob escapes Mary Margaret's lips and David feels the tears burn his eyes. He places his hand over hers and she slips her fingers through his.

David moves his stool closer, the floor creaking with it. Mary Margaret looks at him, their faces inches apart.

"David," she whispers.

"Don't tell me we missed our window," he pleads softly. "Please…I just…I miss you. I want you."

Mary Margaret nods, her fingers caressing his chin.

"I want you too."

And for the first time in years, David kisses Mary Margaret.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting the chapter off with two warnings: One, there is smut in this chapter. Which isn't a big deal, but I know some people don't like it, so skip to the page break if that's not your thing.
> 
> Two, there is sexual assault in this chapter, which has nothing to do with the first point. Read at your own risk.

The first thing Mary Margaret thinks when David kisses her, is that he still tastes the same. Raspberry Chapstick combined with peppermint gum, the latter being the only thing to help him quit smoking. She’s enamored by this, just as she was the first time they kissed.

They stand and he pushes her against the island, his arms locking around her waist. She wraps her arms around his neck, not wanting to let go. If she does, it could all be a dream. She certainly does not want to wake up.

Eventually, he pulls away, his forehead touching hers. Their breaths pant in near perfect synch and she tightens her grip on him.

“Don’t let me go,” she whispers. She’s vulnerable and she hates being that way around David after all they’ve been through, but she can’t help it. He has and always will be her kryptonite.

“I’m not letting you go again.”

He adjusts his arms to lift her into a fireman’s hold. They resume kissing as he carries her to the bed, gently laying her down. He sits beside her and she maneuvers her arms around him. She feels touch starved, needing the reassurance that he’s not going to disappear. She starts kissing his neck, turning the act to sucking once she hits his sweet spot. He lets out a moan and she claps her hand over his mouth.

  
“Do not wake Emma.”

“Got it.”

She continues sucking and he clamps his mouth shut, letting out quiet noises as she leaves her mark on him.

Their clothes are discarded in a heap on the floor and they get a good look at each other for the first time in years. It strikes Mary Margaret as odd that nothing has changed for him. He’s still got the abs that he worked hard for during their marriage. She’s memorized ever inch of his body, including the scar on his shoulder. He doesn’t remember how he got it, says it was probably something his drunk father did at one point or another.

He runs his fingers down her breast, gently toying with her nipple. Mary Margaret bites her lip with glee, moving her hand down to relieve the building pressure. David smacks it away and rubs two of his fingers against her clit. A moan escapes her lips and she grinds against his touch.

“Lube…second drawer on the nightstand.”

He reaches over and fiddles it out, applying some to his index and middle fingers. The overwhelming scent of cherry vanilla fills her nostrils. His fingers come inside of her and she tilts her head backwards.

“I remember what my baby likes,” David whispers.

“Faster,” she demands.

He obliges, his fingers working double time. She grips his skin, her nails dragging down his chest, leaving another sign that she was there.

“I want you in me.”

“Already on it.”

“No, David,” she whines. “I want _you_ in me.”

David’s fingers pause. “Protection…”

“On the pill.”

That’s all he needs. He smiles and moves his fingers out. An erect penis awaits her as she straddles him. Bending down, she steals another kiss, grabbing onto his hair. She stares down into his deep blue eyes, her heart fluttering.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you, too.” The words are like warm water, welcoming her home.

He’s inside of her now and she wants to come right then and there. She grabs his ass and lets herself leave another mark. The hickey will be harder to hide, but she can do whatever damage she wants to the rest of his body. She licks his chest and he grabs hold of her short pixie cut.

“God…I didn’t think…” He mumbles in ecstasy.

“It’s like riding a bike.”

“I want to come for you, baby.”

“And I want it too, but this can’t end. Not yet.”

He nods and grabs her breasts, twisting her nipple. She has to bite her tongue to stop her from screaming. His fingers massage the area and she can feel the floodgates coming. She can’t hold it back, not anymore. Her body relaxes as she comes all over his penis and she tilts her head back, letting out a long laugh.  
  
“Come in me, David,” she says.

“Your wish is my command, darling.”

It takes a few thrusts but soon, she can feel herself wet with more than just her own pleasure. She falls beside him, panting against the pillows. He lays his head on her shoulder and she kisses his curls, inhaling the sweet strawberry scent. All these years and he still has the same shampoo.

A half hour later, they’re clean and under the covers, his arms locked tightly around her body. She’s staring at the brick wall by her bed, reveling in what just happened. Earlier today she was ordering Chinese for one and now…

Now, she doesn’t know. It was amazing, but what if it was just once? What if it was all their emotions bubbling over into a quick moment of passion? What if…

  
“What’s on your mind?” David asks.

“How can you tell that there’s something on my mind?”

“Because I know you.” He brushes a kiss against her temple and chills run down her spine. “Spill.”

Mary Margaret rolls over in his arms, the sheets sliding down a bit. “David…this was amazing…and perfect…but…what was that?”

“Well, I’d think you of all people would know....” He trails off with a smirk and she rolls her eyes.

“David, I’m serious. We’ve been divorced for a very long time and tonight…we kiss…and then…”

David sighs, his comedic side dropping completely. “I know. It’s a lot. But I don’t want this to be a heat of passion.”

Hope rises in Mary Margaret’s chest. “You don’t?”

“Of course not.” He runs his thumb against her cheek. “I love you, Mary Margaret. I never stopped. I thought we missed our moment but I look around Storybrooke and see that things are changing. People are reuniting and forgiving…I don’t want to spend another 23 years wondering what could’ve been.”

Tears prick her eye. “Neither do I.”

“So…where does that leave us?”

Mary Margaret pauses for a moment. “I want to say we can jump right in, but the truth is…we can’t. I mean…we did and it was awesome…but there’s a lot that’s happened. We’ve both changed, a lot, since the divorce. We barely know each other anymore.”

David nods. “I know.”

“So, I say let’s get to know each other. We can’t exactly date like nothing ever happened, but we can learn about one another through spending time.”

“Basically…we’d be back together.”

Mary Margaret smiles. “Yeah…we would be.”

“Dinners, walks in the woods, picnics by the lake…”

“Just like old times,” she kisses him and he deepens it for a moment. When they pull away, she allows what she’s buried for the past few minutes to emerge. “I don’t think we should tell Emma.”

“Why not?”

“Because a lot is changing for her. She’s agreed to move back here and live with me. She gave up her old job. She has to handle Regina and adjust to being around Henry. Our divorce period was a shock to her and I don’t think she’s had time to fully grasp it. I don’t want to throw something else at her.”

David smiles, stroking her cheek again. “You’re a good mom, you know that?”

The tips of her ears burn as an easy smile goes across her face. “So, you agree?”

“I think while we find our footing, she doesn’t need to know all the details. But we should tell her, soon.”

“Deal.” She lays her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Stay?”

“There’s no place I’d rather be.”

* * *

Emma stumbles down the stairs, rubbing her eyes. She had every intention of sleeping in after the whirlwind day before but her body seemed to refuse to allow her to snooze past 8 AM. She had been greeted by the smell of pancakes, which confused her. Mary Margaret wasn’t a great cook, she burned toast. Most of their meals were at Granny’s or something quick and easy. In fact, from her time with the Nolans, the only one who could make pancakes was…

“Morning, Em.”

She jumps, missing her footing on the last few stairs and going down on her rear. David drops what he’s holding and rushes over to her. One of his hands goes behind her head, while the other cradles her back.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just not the most coordinated.”

His forehead creases with worry. “I shouldn’t have startled you.”

“David, I’m fine, really.” Her face is hot from all the fuss. He helps her up and she brushes herself off. “Outside a slightly bruised ego, there’s no damage.”

He nods, looking her up and down. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

She follows him into the kitchen where a mountain of pancakes await, more sizzling in the griddle. An open carton of eggs sits beside a silver bowl. A mountain of ingredients are sprawled out on the counter, including her former foster father’s secret ingredient: nutmeg. Open containers of fruit are nearby, while blueberries and strawberries garnish a nearby plate. She takes David in, he’s wearing his typical flannel and jeans, but something seems different about him. He’s smiling in a way he hasn’t before.

“Not that I’m complaining,” she says as she slides onto one of the stools by the island. “But what are you doing here?”

David freezes for a moment, his smile falling. But just as it’s gone, it’s come back again. “I just figured after the day you had yesterday, you deserved a nice breakfast.”

Emma tilts her head. She’s good at spotting lies and that’s the least convincing one she’s heard in a while. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Emma still isn’t buying it, but he then places a tall stack in front of her. The butter melts down the sides and there’s the perfect amount of syrup. Any questions she had, shoot out of her mind and she accepts cutlery from him. She digs in, savoring the first bite. She didn’t realize how much she had missed David’s pancakes until now. They had them almost every Saturday when she lived with him. She’d sit on the counter, helping him with “the secret ingredient”. She was the only one allowed to know, even Mary Margaret didn’t.

The door to the bathroom opens and Mary Margaret emerges, dressed in a light pink blouse and khakis. Her pixie cut is slightly curled from her shower. She spots David and smiles.

  
“What are you doing here?”

“Wanted to make you guys some breakfast.”

Emma looks between the two, her mouth full. “You didn’t know he was here?”

“Of course not,” Mary Margaret says.

Emma wants to argue, but the pancakes are too damn good. Mary Margaret sits beside her and David gives her a plate, along with a mug of tea. He slides Emma some cocoa, which she gingerly accepts.

  
“This is nice,” Mary Margaret says. “I don’t think we’ve had a meal together since…” She trails off, her face falling a bit.

Emma nods. “It was breakfast too. I don’t remember it though.”

“I do,” David says, a sad smile on his face. “We had cereal, you were so excited because you found a toy car inside…”

“The Camaro,” Emma remembers. She had been so excited because it looked just like her babysitter’s. “I wanted to bring it to school for show and tell.”

“That’s right,” Snow says. “And you, as usual, tried to steal your daddy…” She trails off, clearing her throat. Emma ducks her head away. “I mean, David’s coffee.”

“You never let me,” Emma tries to lighten the mood again. “I thought I was so sneaky.”

“Of course you were, Em,” David says, patting her shoulder.

“Notice even now that I’m 28, I don’t get coffee.”

“I’ve seen how much you drink,” he tells her. “It’s not healthy.”

“Coming from you! Your order is practically sugar with a side of coffee.”

Mary Margaret giggles from around the rim of her mug. “You two are way too much alike.”

“Are not!” Emma and David fight back in near synchronization.

Mary Margaret rolls her eyes. “Point proven.”

It’s a breakfast like old times. There’s jokes and laughter. They discuss their plans for the day (David has to go to the station, Mary Margaret is running errands and Emma wants to go for a hike). Mary Margaret listens to what happened with Ashley, with Emma having no idea that she already heard it all the night before.

For a few minutes, Emma forgets reality. She forgets that she was ever separated from them, that their family fell apart. For that brief time…they’re one again.

After breakfast, Emma heads upstairs and gets ready for the day. She loved finding good hiking spots when she lived in cities, driving for hours until she was in complete solitude. David’s shown her some great ones practically in her backyard in Storybrooke. She hasn’t had a moment to herself since she came to town, to really clear her mind and have no worries. She’s excited for the day ahead.

When she heads downstairs, David’s pulling on his jacket. She hates the ache in her chest that appears. She shouldn’t be sad that he’s leaving. She’s gotten used to life without him after all. David looks over at her and gives a reassuring smile.

“Wanna have dinner tonight?”

Relief fills the pit of her stomach. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

“Come to my place. I’ll make something.”

“You just cooked now.”

“Still, I know you’ve been living off junk the past few weeks. You need a home cooked meal.”

The corners of her lips turn upwards. “Alright, sounds good.”

He leaves and after getting her stuff together, Emma follows suit. She drives her bug to the woods and heads off, the cool late autumn air falling over her. The woods are beautiful, mossy trees and the scent of dirt. There’s probably a spot for camping, she hasn’t been in…well, ever. She came close with Bill and Kate, but Lily had to go and ruin that.

Emma shakes the thought from her mind, before her beautiful hike is ruined. She could always go camping come spring. Maybe Mary Margaret would come, they could ask David....

“Stop,” she mumbles. “You don’t even know if you’ll be here come spring.”

She’s letting the morning get to her. Emma knows not to get her hopes up. Life is known for doing what it wants, including letting her down. The less expectations she has for it, the better.

Emma’s halfway through the woods when she hears a branch snap. Hand on the pepper spray that hangs around her belt, she whips around. She lets out a sigh as she finds Graham leaning against a tree.

“The woods aren’t safe,” he says. “There could be wolves.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “It’s 10 in the morning, I doubt the wolves are going to come out and eat me.”

“You never know,” he retorts, taking a step forward. “This town is weird.”

“Yeah, it is.” _And you’re one of the reasons_.

“What I can’t figure out, is how you seem to change everything.”

Emma shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t.” Graham keeps walking closer and she moves back, until she nearly stumbles over a twig. He grabs hold of her arm and she wiggles against him.

“See, you could’ve gotten hurt.”

“I’m fine.”

“The clock didn’t move until you got back,” he continues on, his grip tightening. She grits her teeth, pulling backwards, but it’s no use.

“You sound like Henry.”

“He’s a smart boy, a little too smart if you ask me.”

Emma raises an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means your son is telling everyone that you’re the savior to this town’s curse.”

Emma finally manages to pull away, frowning at the small bruises that are already forming. “He’s 10. He also probably still believes in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.”

“Kids tend to know more than we give them credit for,” Graham’s blue eyes train on her and her skin crawls. “And his book was very informative.”

“Look, Graham, I really just wanted a hike away from drama. No Henry’s book, no Regina trying to scare me away, no townspeople needing help…”

“I just want to understand.”

Emma shakes her head. “If you need analysis, go talk to Archie.”

“I want to talk to you.”

“I can’t help you.”

Emma starts to walk away, but he follows quickly behind her.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” he says. “I’ve wanted to apologize for the diner.”

She’s starting to get whiplash from this guy’s mood swings. “You mean when you nearly took my head off?”

“I’ve been out of sorts lately…you have that effect on people.”

Emma lets out a bitter laugh. “So, it’s my fault that you’re an asshole?”

“Emma, you know me.”

“I knew you for five seconds when I was in kindergarten.”

“Please, I don’t want you to be angry with me.”

Emma stops in her tracks, throwing her hands in the air. “What do you care how I feel about you?”

Graham looks at her, making her get uncomfortable all over again. “Because.”

Before she can question it, his calloused hands are on her cheeks and his lips collide with hers. She struggles against him, finally finding a way to push him off. He stumbles backwards, his eyes wide.

“What the hell was that?!?” She stares at him, her heartbeat quickening. “That was way over the line!”

“Emma, did you just see that?”

“See what? Your lips assaulting mine?”

“You...” He trails off. “I need to feel something.” He goes to kiss her again and she puts her hand out as a buffer.

“Well you’re not getting it with me!” Her legs move before she can even think about it, wanting to get away from this situation.

“Emma, wait!”

Against her better judgement, she turns back around. Graham grabs hold of her and pushes her against a tree, kissing her again. She squirms in his grasp, screaming against his chapped lips. The option to push him off is gone, her arms are pinned to her side. Vulnerability sets in and Emma feels the warm tears fall down her ice cold cheeks. She’s scared. She wants out.

Finally, he lets go, staring at her in wonder. Emma doesn’t stick around to yell at him this time. Instead, she races out of the woods, not stopping until she gets to her bug. She waits until she’s safely inside to let the rest of the tears fall, her breath quickening.

“He’s going to follow you,” she tells herself. Her foot slips onto the gas and she drives, with no destination in sight. The tears continue to fall and she keeps looking back in the rearview mirror, terrified that the crazed man will follow her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know people are going to blame Regina, as they were when Graham was an ass at the diner. But remember, people without their hearts still have self-control when they're not being controlled. And Regina has nothing to do with this.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a lot of dialogue from 1x09, but it also twists it a bit.

David adds onions into his saucepan, slowly stirring in some other seasonings. Already his kitchen smells like his mother’s growing up. He hadn’t made Ruth’s chicken pot pie in a very long time, not since he was married and Emma lived with them. As a kid, she had hated a lot of vegetables. This dish was the one thing to get her to eat it. He smiled, a memory of her standing on a small step stool, pouring pre-measured ingredients into the bowl. She loved to help him cook, wearing the tiny Rainbow Brite apron that Mary Margaret bought her.

After Emma was taken from them and Mary Margaret kicked him out, he had tried cooking. He’d pour through recipes and try to throw all of his pain into roast chicken, cordon bleu and steak pizzaiolo. Cooking for one wasn’t at all fun and soon, he resorted to just heating up Hungry Man meals he’d find in the frozen section of the grocery store. Sure, he had cooked when he dated Kathryn but that whole thing had been short lived. Once his ex-girlfriend met Jim, it was all over. He didn’t completely mind, there hadn’t been a huge connection between them. Still, it was a little lonely.

In the divorce, he lost pretty much all his friends. They didn’t mean to take sides, but it was clear that Mary Margaret was the easier one to hang out with. Ruby still smiled at him in the diner, still, she was asking his ex to go to the bars and hang out. Graham would invite him for some stuff, but they didn’t have a whole lot in common. And he had been acting especially weird since Emma came to town. That day, he had shown up late to work, clearly hungover and refusing to meet David’s eye. This was hardly the hardworking deputy he had always known. He chalked it up to he and Regina having a fight. As much as they tried to keep it a secret, everyone knew of their little affair. David really couldn’t blame him for finding comfort with her. Regina was pretty and despite her being so mean to everyone, no one wanted to be alone. David can relate to that.

With Emma back and Mary Margaret talking to him again…he wasn’t so alone anymore.

A smile pokes up on his lips as he stirs in the chicken broth and milk. He continues to stir the pot, watching the mixture bubble and thicken. Next comes the chicken and vegetables, which includes a medley of peas and carrots. He folds the mixture into the homemade crust. He could’ve bought one from the store, but he knows his mom would roll over in her grave. David can’t remember much of her, just like he can’t a lot of his life prior to Emma entering their lives. Still, her cooking lessons imprinted in his brain. They didn’t have a lot of money and would stretch one meal into several. She didn’t want him and his brother to be a stereotypical guy that expected their wife to cook. David can recall many a Saturday, helping his mom grocery shop and cook. James refused to take part in it after a while.

Now both are gone. He knows James was in an attack, but Ruth’s death is a blur. When he sleeps, he can see the life drain from her eyes. Mary Margaret’s hand is on her back. For some reason, they’re in a field, not a hospital. Every time he tries to pull back further, it’s blocked. He tells himself that he’s getting older, but he’s never been able to remember a lot about his life before he was in his late 20s.

“Maybe Henry’s right,” he muses to himself, before laughing. Regina is harsh, but she’s no Evil Queen. He’s pretty sure most kids consider their parents at one point or another.

After covering the savory pie with a top, he slides it into the oven and sets a timer. Emma will be over soon and he still has to clean up. As he’s wiping down the counter, his phone rings. His smile widens when a text from Mary Margaret flashes across the screen.

_MM: Emma says you’re having dinner with her. That’s really sweet._

He drops the rag and scoops up the phone, quickly typing a response.

_D: Made chicken pot pie._

_MM: The only way to get her to eat vegetables._

_D: It’s why I’m the genius parent._

_MM: Haha. I do miss your cooking._

_D: I’ll have to make your favorite. Eggplant parmesan._

_MM: You remembered._

_D: Hard to forget. You could come by tonight if you want._

_MM: No, you should have some time alone with her. Besides, she might get suspicious if we’re always in the same room._

Right, they were keeping it a secret. He needs to remember that when Emma shows up. Mary Margaret is the one who can’t keep a secret for shit, but he’s still excited that she agreed to take him back. It shouldn’t have gone so far to the point where they needed divorce, but he had been stupid. If they had just talked…

It doesn’t matter anymore. They’re reunited and can try to move forward.

He moves onto set the table, his heart fluttering as he makes up two places. A frozen full of TV dinners and cupboard with soup cans are going to be disappointed tonight. David isn’t eating alone tonight.

He finishes up just as the timer dings. David pulls his masterpiece from the oven, an aroma of chicken broth and crispy crusts filling his nostrils. He sets it on the table by the blue ceramic plates he absentmindedly picked out post-divorce. David’s about to grab some napkins when the bell rings. He answers it, finding Emma on the other side. She gives him a small smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey, come on in, it’s freezing.”

He steps aside and allows her to walk in. She looks around the tiny kitchen, rubbing the sleeves of her red leather jacket. David can remember her owning a similar one when she was smaller. Much like this one, she never wanted to take it off.

_“It’s my cape,” 5-year-old Emma told David._

“Nice place,” she says.

“I don’t find much use for the kitchen anymore,” David tells her. “Not a lot of fun cooking for one.”

“I get that. I learned a few dishes in one foster home, but I’m still not great.” Her eyes flicker to the table and her smile grows. “Chicken pot pie?”

“I remembered how much you liked it. If you don’t anymore…”

“David, it’s fine. It’s one of my favorites.”

He smiles. “Do you want me to take your jacket? I finally turned on the heat.”

Her hand goes to her forearm and he tilts his head.

“No, I’m good,” she says. “I run cold.”

David wants to push further, but she goes to the fridge. The front has a sushi magnet set he bought at a flea market, holding up various reminders from work. In the corner is a picture he’s kept over the years. It’s a polaroid that Mary Margaret took of David and Emma not long after she came to them. They stand in front of his squad car, wearing matching smiles.

“You still have this,” she mutters.

“I do. You loved coming to work with me.”

“It was fun,” her eyes snap back to him. “I used to imagine working there when I grew up and now I do.”

David smiles, nodding. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Do you need help with anything?”

“No, I just finished, sit down.” She plops down in one of the chairs and he opens the fridge. “I have milk or beer.”

“I’ll take a beer.”

David grabs two Coronas and hands her one. She pops off the cap and takes a swig with familiarity. A part of him is still adjusting to the fact that she’s 28 now, not 5 years old and asking for chocolate milk in her ladybug sippy cup. He sits at the chair beside her and starts to portion out the food.

“How was work?” Emma asks him.

“It was alright, not entirely exciting,” he takes a bite of the still pretty warm dish and swallows. “I got a call from Mr. Clark this afternoon. He thinks someone has been stealing from him.”

“Has he checked the security cameras?”

“The shop’s pretty old, he hasn’t replaced them in years. It seems to be that someone is taking essentials. Toothpaste, paper towel, food. He isn’t sure if he wants to press charges if it’s just someone trying to survive.”

Emma nods, drawing an imaginary design on her plate with her fork. “Good.”

“You alright?”

“I just…I was one of those people,” she says, with a tiny shrug.

David cocks an eyebrow, but then he remembers what Emma told him about her past. “Right, with Henry’s dad.”

“One time we were trying to steal food, just to get through the night. Someone caught us and tried to tell the shop owner.”

“Seriously?” David likes to think, no matter what his position in town, if he was off duty and saw someone stealing food, he’d let it go.

“Luckily, I thought on my feet. I “went into labor”.”

“Huh? I thought you didn’t find out you were pregnant until you were in prison.”

“I didn’t, but it was one of our covers.” Emma laughs at the memory. “I stuck my bag under my shirt and would pretend to be pregnant, so we’d be able to steal easier. No one suspects a pregnant woman.”

David knows he should probably scold her, but a laugh escapes his lips. “Oh my God.”

“I know it’s bad,” she’s trying to contain her own laughter. “But it worked! We got out of there in no time.” She takes a bite of her savory pie. “Oh man, this is good.”

David looks at her for a moment, taking in the glee in her eye. “Whenever you talk about Henry’s dad…you get that look about you.”

“What look?”

“Like you two were really happy.”

Emma’s smile drops and she purses her lips before taking another bite. She waits to swallow before speaking again. “Guess we were.”

“Do you ever think about finding him?”

“No. He left, I’m not in the habit of chasing people who didn’t want me in the first place.”

David wants to point out that she came back to them, but he knows that’s different. He and Mary Margaret didn’t have a choice, this Neal sounds like he did. Even so, no matter how hurt she is, he can see the happiness in her eyes whenever she talks about him.

It hits him then that if they hadn’t lost her, she probably never would’ve met Neal. There’d be no Henry. He hasn’t spent any time with the kid, but he’s seen him around. Henry is the one thing that humanizes Regina. What would life be like without him?

He doesn’t mention that either. Instead, he takes a bite of the pie. “I outdid myself,” he says.

Emma lets out a loud laugh, rolling her eyes. “You’re still so full of yourself.”

“It’s not being full of myself if it’s the truth.”

“You always were the better cook,” she says as she enjoys another bite. “Mary Margaret burns toast.”

“She tries. At least she makes the best red velvet cupcakes I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, those are good.”

He sips his beer. “What’d you do today?”

“Just went on a hike.” She tenses up a bit before regaining composure. “Then just unpacked a little more.”

He takes in her face. “Are you okay, Emma?”

“I’m fine.”

“Em…”

“Seriously, David.” She gives him a Look that reads “drop it”. “I’m fine. I may have overdone it a little, that’s it.”

He stares at her for a few moments, not buying it. 23 years ago, she would’ve told him anything. They would’ve talked it out. Now, she’s hiding behind something. He has to remind himself that life has changed a lot. While she’s always been his daughter (at least in his mind), she probably hasn’t considered him as a father since she was taken away. It’s going to take time to rebuild the trust.

So, he lets it go. They spend the rest of the dinner talking about cooking tips (it’s a little scary that he has to tell Emma that if you’re going to put pasta in the microwave, you have to include water), the things going on in town (the Miner’s Day Festival is quickly approaching) and even manage to slip in some Mary Margaret stuff (she’s been going a bit overboard trying to redecorate the loft and Emma almost regrets bringing it up). It’s not exactly like old times. Emma’s not rocking back and forth in her chair. He doesn’t have to remind her to tuck her hair back so the food doesn’t get into it. Still, it’s nice. They sip their beer, eat and chat about adult stuff.

God, how did he not realize how much he missed her?

Once they’re full, Emma goes to gather the dishes but David insists that he’s got it. He sends her into the living room to pick out a movie to watch. Once he’s got everything soaking and some leftovers to send home for her (and Mary Margaret), he heads in there to join her. Emma is sitting on the brown leather sofa, a sun pillow in her hands. Mary Margaret had picked it out before she moved in with them, it became one of her favorite things.

“I couldn’t get rid of it,” he says. She looked up at him, her green eyes a little curious. “Mary Margaret kicked me out and I left quickly, but I grabbed that. It reminded me of you.”

“Mary Margaret has a ton of stuff.”

“I know.” He drops down next to her. “I don’t blame her, but I thought it’d be too hard to see all of it every single day.”

“I get it,” she says. “I’m not an entirely sentimental person. I think my landlord sent two boxes over.”

“Really?”

Emma drops the pillow onto the couch. “I don’t need much.” She turns to the T.V, showing that she’s got a tape paused. “I picked Raiders of the Lost Arc. Hope that’s okay.”

He smiles. “Yeah, I love that one.”

“Me too. It’s my favorite of the franchise.”

They’re pretty quiet as they watch Indie kick ass. Just like he’s not the type to make dinner for one, it’s not exactly fun to watch movies by himself. Mary Margaret got a bulk of their VHS collection in the divorce and while Storybrooke has a video store, he’d much rather watch the game or read a book.

A disappointing buzz fills his stomach when the credits roll and Emma pulls herself off the couch, saying that she better get back “home”. He looks around his living room, biting his lip. This place only has one bedroom, he can’t invite her to stay. It makes sense for her to live with Mary Margaret, but he wonders what it would be like if she was younger and they had to split custody. He’d definitely need a bigger place.

Another part of him knows he should wait. If things work out with Mary Margaret, the two of them can get a place together.

“Thanks for coming over,” he says.

“It was fun,” Emma replies, almost as if she’s surprised. “I didn’t realize how much I missed this.”

“Me either. We should do it again soon.”

“Sure.”

David hesitates, then wraps her into a hug. His hand easily goes on the back of her head, cradling it. She drops her head to his shoulder and to his surprise, she tightens the hug. He rubs her back with the hand that’s on it and frowns.

“Are you sure that you’re okay, Em?”

“I’m fine.” She pulls away, giving him a small smile that doesn’t convince him at all. “I’ll see you later.”

He walks her to the door, still feeling uneasy. David stands on the tiny stoop, watching as her yellow bug pulls out of the drive. He wonders who taught her how to drive. It was supposed to be him, he had it all planned out when she was little. He’d start, but Mary Margaret would probably be better at it.

Another opportunity lost.

* * *

Emma stands in front of the full-length mirror in Mary Margaret’s part of the loft. She’s got her sweater discarded to the side, wearing just a tank top and jeans. Her fingers trace Graham’s own that make up the bruises on her biceps. They’ve turned a wicked yellowish purple color overnight and hurt worse than the day before. How the hell is that man so strong?

“You should’ve fought him off,” she mutters to herself. It’s what she’s trained to do. She’s tackled fully grown men to the ground to get them from running during her pursuits. After a particularly bad foster home, she took self-defense class.

And yet when he was pushing her up against the tree, she couldn’t do a damn thing. She feels powerless, weak. Henry keeps saying that she’s the savior, but she certainly doesn’t feel like that.

Her phone rings and despite being the only one in the loft, she throws her sweater over her head. David’s face has taken over her screen. She quickly answers, still a bit tangled in the bulky overwear.

“’Sup?”

“Hey Em, are you at the station yet?”

“No, I was just about to leave.”

“Good, I have a case for you.”

Emma grins. First Ashley, now this. It’s better than boring paperwork, that’s for sure. “Lay it on me.”

“Well, Clark caught his shoplifters.”

“You need me to find them?”

“Not exactly, they’re Henry’s age.”

Emma frowns. “Oh.”

“They claimed they were just trying to help their parents out, so I bought the stuff and Clark banned them from the store. I dropped them off at home, but something felt off. So, I went snooping…and they’re living in an abandoned house. Alone.”

Emma’s stomach sours. She wishes that she could be surprised, but she did something similar not much older than those kids. Lily showed her what were supposed to be abandoned beach houses and they lived there for a week. Even after she found out that her supposed best friend was a fraud, Emma kept up with it.

“They finally admitted to me that their mom is dead, but they have no clue where their dad is. That’s where you come in.”

Emma walks into the kitchen and grabs a pad with lavender legal paper, Mary Margaret’s choice. “What are their names?”

“Nicholas and Ava Zimmer. They’re twins, 12 years old. Told me their birthdays are February 19th, 1999.”

Emma nods, scribbling it all down. “Alright. What are you going to do with them?”

“I have to call social services.”

Emma’s voice turns sharp. “Don’t.”

“Emma, I have to.”

“No, you don’t. Look, just take them to the loft and I’ll find their dad. There is no reason to get them mixed up in the system, they’ll probably be separated.”

David pauses. “Em…”

“I know what it’s like to be in the foster system. There are great people like you and Mary Margaret…but at the same time…” She shuts her eyes, trying to block out the memory of perverted foster fathers and drunk foster mothers. “I just can’t risk it.”

David is quiet for a moment. “Do you think Mary Margaret will be okay with this?”

“It’s just temporary. I’ll text her. There’s a spare key under the mat.”

“Okay, I’ll take them there now.”

“We have snacks in the cabinets, there’s the leftovers you sent me home with too. I should be at the station before you get here.”

She hangs up and gathers her things, racing down to her car. Emma is at the station in record time. She feels her stomach lighten a bit when she enters and finds that it’s empty. Consulting the schedule pinned to the bulletin board, it’s his day off. Small miracles.

Emma gets settled at her desk and gets to work, looking through records of Nicholas and Ava. The most she finds is a record of their mother, Dory Zimmer. No father is listed on their birth certificate. She digs as far as she can, but nothing is coming up.

She’s halfway through the takeout that Ruby delivered for her when the door opens and shuts again. Emma looks up, finding Henry walking over to her. She’s done her best to avoid him. Emma chose to gave him up for adoption and no matter how hard is life is, she can’t risk getting in trouble. She’s heard of too many birth moms crossing the lines and ending up with restraining orders or worse. Emma needs to keep her nose down, do her job or Regina will find a way to drive her out of town again.

Still, he drops on the stool near her and lets his bookbag fall to the floor. “Kid, you can’t be here.”

“I was with Nicholas and Ava when they stole. They put a candy bar in my bag.”

Emma looks up from her work, cocking an eyebrow. “Oh.”

“I heard Mr. Nolan talking about taking them home and saying he needs to find their dad. Any luck?”

Emma sighs. “No.”

“I know who they are.” He digs through his bag and pulls out the storybook. “Brother and sister….” He flips through the pages. “No parents, lost…” He grins as he reaches his desired page and shows her a beautifully drawn picture of two kids dressed in old timey clothes, one with blonde braids and the other has a beanie covering his brown hair. “Hansel and Gretel.”

Emma knows she should argue with him about still believing in the book, but it won’t do any good. Besides, is it so bad that he believes in fairytales? She had certainly given up by his age, but parents are supposed to want more for their kids.

“Anything in there about the dad?”

“Just that he abandoned them.”

Emma holds back a sigh, shaking her head. “Great.” She gets up and heads over to the file cabinets to search for more information. “Sounds like a familiar story. Whoever this guy is, he could be in Laos by now.”

“No, he’s here,” Henry says with certainty.

“And just how are you sure about that?”

“’Cause no one leaves Storybrooke and no one comes here,” Henry explains as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “No one goes, it’s just the way it is.”

Emma looks up from the cabinet. “I came here.”

“Because you’re special. You’re the first stranger here, ever.”

Emma lets the file cabinet close with a clang, trying to remain patient. “Right, I forgot.” She flips open a folder, sighing when it just gives her Dory’s death certificate. “Well, if he’s around here anywhere, I’m going to find him.” She settles back down in her creaky chair.

Henry moves from the chair to sit on her desk. “Can you tell me about him?”

Emma keeps her eyes on the information she’s gathered. “I don’t know anything yet.”

“Not their father, mine.”

Emma’s eyes shoot up and her mouth hangs open. When she first arrived to town, Regina asked if she could expect anymore surprise visits and she told her the truth, he didn’t know. Neal was long gone by the time she got a little plus sign. She figured Regina would’ve told him, but considering Henry once told her on the ride from Boston that he had only found out he was adopted a few months prior. It’d make sense why she’d keep it a secret.

“I told you about your parents,” Henry rambles on. “You’re even living with your mom, working with your dad.”

“Mary Margaret and David are not my parents,” she says as gently as possible. “They’re…” She knows it’s complicated, but doesn’t want to get into it with a 10 year old. “Never mind.”

“Please.”

Henry is looking at her with big eyes, his father’s eyes. She looks him up and down, reminding herself how much he looks like his dad. From his dark hair to the way he waves his hands animatedly when he’s telling a story. Emma doesn’t see a lot of herself in Henry, but she sure sees Neal.

Growing up, Emma had to face the reality that her biological parents didn’t want her, that they didn’t give enough of a damn to drop her off at a fire station or hospital. Then she lived for years knowing that two of her first foster families gave her a way. It hurt, more than anything. She still didn’t know the full stories behind either of those for years. Not having answers, was hard. Knowing you were abandoned, that hurt worse.

She can’t put that on Henry. He’s just a little kid who believes in fairytales and loves hot chocolate. Why ruin his innocence so early in life?

So, she goes into her wish fulfillment story. What she told herself some nights to get past the abandonment.

  
“I was pretty young,” she says and that part is true. “I had just gotten out of the foster system and the only job I could get was at this tiny diner just off the 84 on the interstate.” Another truth, she had worked at a diner before she became a bail bondsperson. “And uh, your dad was training to be a fireman.”

Neal had always loved firefighters. That was going to be his career once they went to Tallahassee.

“He always got the worst shifts, so he’d come in and order coffee and pie. He’d sit at the counter and…” She screwed her face up. “Always complained that we didn’t sell pumpkin pie.” That was her ex’s favorite treat, outside jelly donuts. A soft smile comes across her face at the memory of her stealing a pumpkin pie one Thanksgiving. “He always came back the next night anyway.”

“Did you get married?” Henry asks, intrigued.

Emma lets out a small laugh. “Oh, no, nothing like that. We just…we hung out a few times outside of work. And…” She thinks of the reality of the situation, far too complex for a 10-year-old. “Life happened.” Her heart hurts, trying to block out the feeling of those metal cuffs on her wrists. “His got better, mine got worse. I got in some trouble…”

“When you went to jail.”

Emma lets out a deep breath. If only he knew. “Yeah. But before I left…I found out I was pregnant with you.” Sounded better than getting tested in prison. She smiles a little and Henry matches it. “And I tried to contact him and…” She leaned forward, trying to get the courage to lie.

Emma hates lies. She’s gotten them enough in her life. But along the way she learned…sometimes you have to lie to protect the ones you love. She never tried to find Neal after he left her. The closest was waiting for him in Tallahassee for 2 years, but he never showed. Besides, by then, Henry was long gone.

“I found out that he died, saving a family from a burning apartment building.” Her heart breaks as Henry’s face falls. “So, you think I’m a savior, Henry. He was. Your father was a real hero.”

For awhile, Neal had been her hero. He went hungry so she could eat. He always made sure she was warm in those cold Portland nights. He had been her everything.

Henry doesn’t need to know that all heroes eventually live long enough to become the bad guy.

“Do you have anything of his?” Henry asks softly. “Something I could see, something to remember him by.”

Emma’s hand goes over the swan keychain that hangs around her neck. She’s held onto it for all these years. Maybe it’s time to let it go, maybe she can give it to Henry…

That’s when it hits her. She’s not sentimental and she hasn’t hung onto a lot, but she does have one thing of her biological parents. Her baby blanket, carefully woven with her name in the corner. If she has that, maybe Ava and Nicholas have something of her parents’.

She carefully takes off her necklace, to let Henry look at the keychain. “He gave this to me,” she tells him. He takes it into his hands, staring at it in wonder. “But Henry, I’m sorry, I gotta go. I may know how to find this guy.”

“Your keychain…”

“Hang onto it,” she insists. “It was your father’s after all.”

She leaps out of her chair, grabbing some things before heading out of the station. A pang of guilt fills her stomach. She lied to her son, something she swore she’d never do.

“It’s for the best,” she tells herself as she climbs into the bug. “It’d hurt him to know the truth.”

* * *

Mary Margaret watches at the twins devour the Oreos she placed in front of them. She frowns, being reminded of how Emma acted when she first came to them. Everything was eaten quickly, as if it’d be taken from her right after. They clearly hadn’t had a warm meal in a long time, they wolfed down the leftovers David had sent over the night before. David stands behind her, a hand on the small of her back.

  
“You guys can have as much as you want,” Mary Margaret assures them. “It’s not going anywhere.”

“Do you want some milk?” David asks.

Ava nods. “Yes, please.”

Mary Margaret goes to the fridge and grabs the carton, pouring out two glasses. She holds it up for David to see and he nods, so she fixes him a glass as well. Mary Margaret passes out the glasses.

  
“Emma’s going to find your father,” she promises the kids.

“We don’t even know who he is,” Nicholas points out.

“I know, but finding people is her job.”

As if on cue, the door bursts open and Emma runs in. She doesn’t acknowledge her former foster parents as she zips up the stairs, coming down not long after with a box in her hand. Her baby blanket pokes out from the top, the white fabric spilling onto her sleeve.

Emma drops the box onto the counter. “Hey guys,” she says, breathlessly. “I’m Emma.” The twins regard her carefully, taking some bites from their cookies. Emma pulls her baby blanket out with two hands, clutching it carefully.

“What’s that?” Nicholas asks.

“It’s my baby blanket. It’s the one thing I’ve held onto, it’s the one thing I have…” Emma looks from Nicholas to Ava. “From my parents.”

David takes Mary Margaret’s hand and she squeezes it. Emma had been so attached to that blanket when she was little and they both knew why. Despite the research they did, they could never find Emma’s biological parents. Mary Margaret knew they had to have loved her. No one makes such a beautiful blanket, no one puts in such time and effort…just to let her go without a second thought.

“I’ve spent a lot of time with kids in your situation,” Emma continues. “And all of them…all of us, we held onto stuff.” Nicholas and Ava nod. “I want to find your father, but I need your help. Is there anything of his you’ve held onto?”

Mary Margaret feels a rush of pride watching her former foster daughter take control of the situation. She truly is good at her job.

Nicholas and Ava are quiet for a moment, before the latter speaks up. “I might have something. But if I give it to you…you’ll make sure we stay together, right?”

Emma stares at the two. “Right.” She tucks her baby blanket back into the box and Ava digs through her pocket, pulling out a compass. It lands in Emma’s hands softly. “Compass?”

“Our mom kept it. She said it was our dad’s.”

“Thank you.” Emma starts to head for the door, when Ava speaks again.

“Did you find them?”

Emma tilts her head. “Who?”

“ _Your_ parents.”

“Not yet,” Emma says, confirming the question that’s sat in Mary Margaret’s head since she arrived. “But I’m gonna find yours.”

She heads out the door and Mary Margaret feels a tug at her heart to follow. She doesn’t say a word until they’re outside.

“Emma, are you sure that this is a good idea?” she asks. “I mean, maybe he’s in town, but what if he doesn’t want them? It sounds like he doesn’t know about them.”

“He’s our only hope to keep them out of the system.”

“I just think…maybe the better thing would be to call social services.”

“We can’t! They’ll just be separated.”

“I know, but I think we need a Plan B, if this guy doesn’t want to be around.”

“Maybe we could hide them, just until we find them a home…”

“Oh that’s a great idea,” Mary Margaret quips. “Hide the 12-year olds.” She can see the reality of how that’d go hits Emma. “Look, sweetie, I know you want to help, and I know you want to stop them from ending up like you, but really, there’s not much we can do.”

“Maybe there’s nothing you can, but this is my job. I’ve got it handled.”

Emma gets in her car and zooms off, leaving Mary Margaret alone with her thoughts. She’s normally the one with the hope speeches, but she’s scared for her former foster daughter. What if she gets hurt? What if she can’t do what she’s promised for these kids? What will that do to her?  
  


She walks back up to the loft and finds David cleaning up by himself. “Where are the kids?”

“I told them to go watch TV in Emma’s room,” he says, placing the dish in the sink. “Figured they could use a distraction.”

Mary Margaret leans against the counter. “Do you ever think about them? Her biological parents?”

David pauses. “I mean…a little. In the beginning. I wondered how they could just abandon her on the side of the road.”

“There has to be more to that story.” She bites her lip. “Do you think she’s still looking for them?”

“I don’t know. There’s not much information that she can find, we didn’t.”

“I know, but…I just don’t want her to get hurt.”

“Oh Mare,” he wraps his arms around her waist. “Emma’s a big girl.”

“She’s been through a lot.”

“I know. But she has us now. We can help her through all of it.”

Mary Margaret shuts her eyes, nodding a little. “We,” she whispers. “I like the sound of it.”

His lips brush against hers. “She’s not alone anymore. We can help her through all of this.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Talking me down. I haven’t had someone for this…in a long time.”

“What else am I here for?”

“I can think of a few things.”

A smile breaks out across her face and he matches it.

“Mission accomplished,” he whispers slyly.

“You’re such a dork.”

“No more than you.”

* * *

The day turns to night and Mary Margaret feeds the kids, finding books for them to read. David shows them how to make cookies and they’re in Heaven. For a minute, she’s brought back to when they were fostering kids. David was always so good with them, he always knew just what August and Emma needed. She knows that he’d be a good dad, he is a good dad. He just never got a chance to raise their kid.

Around 6 PM, she gets a text from Emma.

_E: Get the kids ready and have David bring them to Michael Tillman’s garage._

A smile breaks across her face and she shows the text to David. He claps his hands together and turns to the twins.

“Bundle up, I’ll take you for a ride,” he says. Mary Margaret knows he’ll talk to them in the car, it’s a lot to explain.

Nicholas heads to the coat rack to get his stuff, but Ava throws her arms around Mary Margaret’s waist. She’s caught off guard, but carefully hugs her back.

  
“Thank you,” she whispers.

Mary Margaret’s heart melts. She carefully strokes Ava’s blonde curls. “Of course,” she whispers. “You two can come back here anytime.”

Ava looks up at her with innocent eyes. “You’d make a good mom.”

With that, she takes off for the door, laughing with her twin. Mary Margaret holds a hand over her chest, biting down on her lip.

She folds laundry on her bed once David leaves, trying to get Ava’s words out of her mind. She feels like a mom, even if she never got to adopt Emma. Still, it’s a complicated situation. Will Emma look at her that way again? Probably not.

The door opens and Emma walks in, making her way over to the bed. She flops backwards on it, just like she did when she was little. Mary Margaret sets down her half-folded cardigan and gives her a soft smile.

  
“So, you found him?”

“Yup.”

“And you convinced him to take the kids?”

“Wasn’t easy. First time I went, he was pretty firm on not taking them…but then I went back. Showed him pictures…he couldn’t say no.”

“It’s harder to walk away once you know a kid,” Mary Margaret muses.

Emma slowly nods. “It’s what I don’t get about my biological parents. They saw me…they had to know me…”

“I’m sure they had their reasons, Emma. And maybe one day…you’ll get what Nicholas and Ava had.”

It’d kill her to lose Emma again, but she knows what’s best for her. She needs closure with those people. They have answers that Mary Margaret can never give.

  
“No,” Emma whispers. “Maybe it’s best if I give up. I think I need to let go.”

All hope from her voice is gone, which makes Mary Margaret frown. “No you don’t.”

Emma’s face scrunches up adorably. “Really? If they wanted to know me, they wouldn’t make it so hard to look.”

“We couldn’t go after you, maybe it’s something like that.”

“Mary Margaret…”

“No, I’m serious, Emma. May be there’s an explanation.”

Emma sighs. “Well if it is, it’s crazy. Something even crazier than Henry’s theory.”

“What’s Henry’s theory?”

“Well,” she props herself up on her elbows. “That my parents put me in a magical wardrobe and sent me to this world to save them.”

Mary Margaret smiles pitifully. That boy is too damn sweet. “Aw. Who does he think they are?” He knows Henry has assigned a character to every resident. She’s Snow White, Archie is Jiminy Cricket. Even Ruby is Little Red Riding Hood.

“For one, you.”

Mary Margaret raises an eyebrow. “Me?” Her smile stays glued on her face, mostly out of confusion.

Emma nods. “Well, Snow White.”

“Snow White has a kid.”

Emma narrows her eyebrows. “Apparently that book you gave him, not exactly the stories in the most traditional sense.”

Mary Margaret laughs. “You’re my biological kid.” She shakes her head. “You think I’d remember that.”

“You’d think,” Emma mumbles.

Mary Margaret sees the lost look on Emma’s face. When she was younger, she used to say that she wished that Mary Margaret was her biological parent, that it’d make it easier. Henry’s insistence on everyone being a fairytale character is sweet and innocent, but it also unknowingly hurts a lot of people. She would have given anything to have been the one to give birth to Emma, to not struggle with infertility. Thinking of the whole situation, breaks her heart. But Henry doesn’t know anything about that.

She needs to lighten the mood. “You do kind of have my chin,” she widens her eyes a bit, smirking.

Emma chuckles and Mary Margaret does in return, glad to see her smile again. “I think I need some air.” She gets off the bed and heads back towards the kitchenette. Mary Margaret follows behind her.

“Want some company?”

“No, I need to think.”

“I’ll leave you some leftovers.”

“Okay.”

Emma pauses, looking up at her.

“I um…thanks for taking care of Ava and Nicholas today. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

Before Mary Margaret can say that she’s a teacher, it’s what she does, Emma is kissing her cheek. Suddenly, Mary Margaret’s eyes zone out. A series of visons flash before her eyes.

_Eva is dead, Snow is crying as Johanna pulls her away._

_Standing in the stables, watching Daniel and Regina kiss._

_“True love is the rarest magic of all,” Regina tells her, joy written on her face._

_Her father’s death, Regina’s arms around her, holding her in a hug for the first time in forever._

_Being banished, becoming a bandit. Robbing a prince and knocking him out with a rock._

_  
“I will find you! I will always find you!”_

_Falling in love with Charming, taking back the kingdom, finding out that she’s pregnant._

_Her baby’s cries as David carries her away, ripping Snow in two._

She stumbles backwards and Emma heads for the door. Snow’s mind is foggy as she watches her foster daughter head out the door.

No, not foster daughter.

Her daughter.

Tears prick her eyes and her mouth drops open. Her phone vibrates, a text from David telling her that he’s dropping off the twins now.

Her husband. David.

She lost so much time with him, with Emma. Her family was so close to her and yet so far.

Mary Margaret is gone, Snow White has risen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because really, Snow should've woken up in True North. ;)
> 
> Questions for me or the characters? Send them to my Tumblr, Twitter or CuriousCat: justanoutlawfic.


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